Duke and Fifa ignored their new neighbors and set to work making a baby for the future of whatever race would dare lay claim to them. A chiming of post-coital bells signaled that a lobsterous bun had been deposited in the oven. His work done, Duke dozed.
Fifa's world was rocked, naturally, but her mind was elsewhere.
She joined the guests in the living room and enjoyed some television. Conversation was sporadic and seemed to focus mainly on sushi rolls and airplanes.
One wizard thinks our President's magic control initiatives have gone too far.
Are we not allowed to be real parents anymore? We may have feared the CyborFreaks, but we damn well respected them and learned about boundaries.
Ron Paul spins in his chair, trying to grab his decorative antique musket but Freddy gets it first.
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