For Whom the Bowl Crunch

Cap’n! Cap’n! Bringeth your seafaring haul back home?

ARRGAKT By grocer’s word, yeet yeet, i sayeth

Um, perhaps pourn, soft… core, into mine bowl? Here is my Cinnamilk, saved from the cinna-totes crunch storm that wasted juddge pall and muh-goats.

ARRULAKG you dranketh cinna? Quickly, crunch on these microplastics as i taketh the macroplastic saber and send thee to school!

Not skewl, I prithee

Do you deny cinnamilk is a miracle?

NO!

TO HELL WITH THEE!

*Yaboookie*

Son, go inside. Take the cinnamilk. Take his saber. The Post might know they’ve lost this , but The Guardians’ We Just Bought That shields hold strong.

Father Maple, your syrup…

T’was born here, in my matronly dispenser, to be soaked up, son.

— Ooh, that’s sticky! Stay tuned for more adult fiction larkings sponsored by Mtn Dew Kickstart