"This Admonishment is not work-safe!" I exclaim.

The Calligrapher glances at the draft, then asks, "The others were?"

I pause for a long moment. Then mutter, "Point."




(My friends have since assured me that the draft is not pr0ntastic. Apparently I still blush at the drop of a hat and am not a good measure of these things.)

(Yes, this means what you're thinking.)

(archangelbeth, you may now commence with the schoolgirl fantasies.)

(Fwooshtastic!)

(>.>)

(<.<)


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