[He knew Sam would have a present ready for him. The man has one setting and it's Upsettingly Good. He's the sentient equivalent of hot fudge poured over caramel sauce drizzled over coffee syrup swirled over mini marshmallows lining the pavement of rocky-road icecream, chilled and churned from fresh cream squeezed out of happy cows with no fences. Most can't wait to get their mouths all over it, they dive in face first, but Kavinsky's leery of the promised toothache.
His preferred brand of self-indulgence involves more yelling.
Besides, big smiles and oh yes are just what the poster boy for Casual Friday want from him. Not today, anti-Satan.
Kavinsky licks his lips and bites the head off of a defenseless gingerbread man.]
no subject
His preferred brand of self-indulgence involves more yelling.
Besides, big smiles and oh yes are just what the poster boy for Casual Friday want from him. Not today, anti-Satan.
Kavinsky licks his lips and bites the head off of a defenseless gingerbread man.]
Like I said.
[Next, he eats its leg.]
I'm not into your family kink.