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Mags the Mad!
A much more proper version of my beloved Mags the Mad who is truly mad. Or a little bit mad. Sometimes slightly mad. Not angry, nonono. She is mad as a loon! Sometimes she knows too much, sometimes she doesn't remember having a conversation with you just five seconds ago; sometimes she's sniffing your ding dong for "fuck juices" her words, not mine -- YEAH, I KNOW I WROTE IT, BUT THEY'RE STILL HER WORDS, hahahaha -- or sometimes she's chasing people around with a disembodied weiner shouting, "THE PECKER'S GONNA GETCHA!" over and over. Her two short swords are duller than dull can be, but she loves them and talks to them, and no one knows if they answer her back. One is named Peck'Er. The other is named Poke'Er.
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Mags the Mad!
A much more proper version of my beloved Mags the Mad who is truly mad. Or a little bit mad. Sometimes slightly mad. Not angry, nonono. She is mad as a loon! Sometimes she knows too much, sometimes she doesn't remember having a conversation with you just five seconds ago; sometimes she's sniffing your ding dong for "fuck juices" her words, not mine -- YEAH, I KNOW I WROTE IT, BUT THEY'RE STILL HER WORDS, hahahaha -- or sometimes she's chasing people around with a disembodied weiner shouting, "THE PECKER'S GONNA GETCHA!" over and over. Her two short swords are duller than dull can be, but she loves them and talks to them, and no one knows if they answer her back. One is named Peck'Er. The other is named Poke'Er.
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