I can only imagine what it’s like to live with a chef and a potential body gaurd who could serve you your death. There’s this girl who calls me muffin, or, rather, a woman, and a tough one.
Once, I blanketed her while sleeping, but she totally knew I was there, and if I didn’t know her, she might guess me as creeping and I would surely beware!
She would never roughen me up, unless I went to ask. Then she’d toughen me up, and complete her task. I have great respect for her, after all, she could woop my ass!
She could put my head on a platter, and make it dammed delicious. Some spices here, some garlic there, and I’d be nutritious.
But, that would never happen to me, because I’m on her good side. And it’s there with glee that I happily reside, with Bonnie the beast we’ll feast with pride.
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