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[peasant]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME:
myshka

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Comments

[preborns]

Personal icicles. He's going to give you pneumonia with his toes.

I want to bake my own, yes. It'll be the best cake in the entire world and it'll sear the memory of Paul's and it's descendants from the sphere of the known universe, banish it to the greatest depths of Shai-Hulud's cleansing maw, forgotten as the ancient stars on the farthest reaches of the galaxy!

[peasant]

I'm literally the sun. And you already try to stick your cold, slimy hands down my pants when I'm sleeping.

( how did this cake ploy work so well, more importantly ... alia ... )

Strange. That's what Paul said about his. ( he most certainly did not. ) He told me yours doesn't stand a chance.

[preborns]

They aren't slimy! I wash them as you've dictated I must, despite there being no dirt at all.
But they are so cold 😞 and your pants are so warm 😌

He has been wrong often before, there is little difference now.

[peasant]

They leave slime trails. Like a snail.
Can't you stick them down Paul's pants? It's only fair.

( equality, in love and war. )

I don't know ...
He's really clever when he puts his mind to something.

[preborns]

Because I'm making sure you know I was there. Snail trails to remember me by.
Well. I have two hands. But you two cuddle in your sleep, so it's hard to get in the middle.

NOT when it comes to CAKES. He's woeful and useless.

[peasant]

Scandalous.
Sorry, I claimed middle first. I like the middle. ( shocking no one, ever. ) But you have long arms. You can reach.

Really? And you've witnessed him make a woeful, useless cake?
Surely there's no such thing.

[preborns]

Hmph. Well, you have to roll over sometimes so I can be little spoon. I like the way your hair smells.

Oh yes. The tales of Muad'Dib's woeful cakes are sang in sietch and city. And you can tell him I said so.

[peasant]

I know. You get your drool in it. I have to brush it out in the morning.

Interesting.
He said your cakes are made from sand, and they taste of it, too.

[preborns]

I could brush it, if you'd like. Braid some nice things into it. [Like feathers or bones or a handful of grass she dug out from under the snow.]

And his taste like stinky boy cake.