“Lualhati!” I reminded him in sing-song tones, gleefully ripping open a box of fluffy pillows.
“I have been a military commander for the Empire of Zabria for many cycles. And since then, I have been the warden responsible for the convicted murderers of this penal colony.”
“I believe it!” I replied. Everything about the man screamed cool control, power, and the kind of inherent authority needed to excel in those sorts of positions.
“So believe me when I say,” he went on, “that I have been in far more stressful situations than this.”
“Uh huh.”
I could practically feel his frown from across the room, even though I was currently sticking my head into yet another box. It was like the craggy depth of the expression had developed its own force of gravity.
“I would like you to acknowledge that.”
“Pardon?” I lifted my head. Yep. I was right. Super frowny.
“Earlier, when I told you something about myself, you said, ‘I believe it.’ I would like such another acknowledgement from you.”
“Oh. Sure. Of course,” I said breezily. But his frown only deepened.
“You do not sound convinced.”
“I believe you,” I said. “I’m just…going by what your face is telling me.”
His gaze narrowed. Like he was suspicious of his own mutinous features, wondering how they’d managed to betray him.
“What is my face telling you?”
“It’s telling me that you want to yeet all my stuff right out of here.”
“Yeet?” he cocked his head. “This is translating to something akin to throwing very far out of the vicinity. Like out of the window. Or beyond the breathable atmosphere.”
“Correct.”
“Then my face has told you wrong,” he proclaimed, sounding almost offended. “I would never yeet your things.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he vowed, so seriously that I found it almost painfully touching. “These items are important to you. Therefore, they are important to me.” He reached into a box and pulled something purple out. “Now, tell me where you want me to put this…”
He hesitated.
And I just about died. On the spot. Perished into complete and total oblivion.
Just kidding. Unfortunately, I remained depressingly alive to see Warden Hallum gripping my big, purple dildo in his fist.
“That is a medical device!” I shouted. Oh, God. Why was I basically screaming? I was not doing well in the looking normal department right now.
“A medical device?” He peered closer.
“Stop!” I squeaked. “Stop looking at it!”
I tried to sprint across the kitchen to snatch it. Due to all the mess, it was more of a pathetic sort of lurch.
“Are dildos medical devices?”
Oh.
Oh no.
