Autor's quickly becoming a raw pie. He yelps at the sugar crusting over him, raising an arm to try to shield his glasses, to no avail.
Oh, look, someone left an open can of pumpkin. He reaches his fingers in and tosses it at her. He's not to the point of giggling yet, still working himself into a fine snit.
Re: Autor Trips
Oh, look, someone left an open can of pumpkin. He reaches his fingers in and tosses it at her. He's not to the point of giggling yet, still working himself into a fine snit.