Lunamor

I played the recorder in elementary school, although I’m using a rather loose definition of “played”. TPBM owns a pocketknife.

Have a cat who keeps screaming to be let into the bathroom so he can lock himself in a sink cabinet (he won’t stop meowing, halp). I have a four-leaf clover.

Jenny felt Gift flow onto her and smiled. A little bit of frost collected on Ed’s fingertips where he had touched her. Gift became a large, strangely shaped holster. She rapidly loaded it with the spare daggers she kept on her person. You didn’t need anything fancy to hurt a demigod. Roy was already using his madness magic on her and likely Ed. So aggressive. She remained still for a few moments more, then suddenly threw four daggers in quick succession, aiming at each individual Roy she saw. She now had apparently two Eds behind her, and she didn’t want to move and lose track of which one was real.

I bequeath upon you a month-old hamburger from McDonalds that has suspiciously not molded. I have a pen that ran out of ink.

Granted. I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas is now perpetually stuck in your head. I wish for I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas to no longer be stuck in my head (I did this to myself ).

Alexander Hamilton writes many essays about sandwiches that convince him to hand it over.

had an emupic dancemu party.

Master? What was he talking about? Was Roy working for someone else? That someone seemed to hate Ed too. It knew about him. That was terrifying. Jenny took a few steps forwards, standing in front of Ed. Shadows began to coalesce around her, thick enough that they were almost tangible. The temperature around her lowered even further, Sword now completely covered in frost. That didn’t appear to bother her. @Weaver of Lights

Jenny growled. An inconvenience. How dare he call him an inconvenience. The air around her lowered in temperature significantly, frost collecting on Sword’s blade. Roy was trying to push Ed off of the edge again. She couldn’t let that happen. He isn’t wrong. @Weaver of Lights

Plastique raised an eyebrow. Fish was not in a pleasant mood today. She smirked slightly. It was always fun to see the higher-ups upset at someone- so long as that someone wasn’t herself, of course. ”I wanted to ask if you had any jobs available.” She shifted her weight so that it was equally distributed between both of her feet again and leaned slightly forwards. ”But now I also want to ask who’s been bothering you.” Plastique loved gossip. It was good for tearing rifts. Rifts left vacuums, and she constantly looked for the chance to fill them. Even if it was about someone entirely unimportant, she enjoyed hearing about their strife anyways.

Jenny pouted a bit at his lack of a reaction. Pity. She’d have to try again some other time. ”Remind me, how did that go last time? And the time before that?” It was ridiculous for Roy to claim he could take them both on when it had been proven that was not the case multiple times. She’d love the opportunity to prove that again, however. @Weaver of Lights

Have an aglet (don’t forget it!). I have an electric guitar.

Chuck Norris frequently donates blood to the Red Cross. Just never his own.

When Chuck Norris throws a boomerang, the boomerang does not return because it is scared to come back.

Chuck Norris can lick his elbow.

Jenny unsheathed Sword, then undid her bun. She let her hair hang in front of her face and grinned maniacally. She was thrilled at the excuse to scare Roy. @RoyalBeeMage

I wonder why an identical clone of me has appeared, then appeal to our shared interests to get it to bring the sandwich back to me.

How should I investigate serial killers’ urge to murder? Nothing. Zero. Nada. Nil. Zilch.

Plastique strode forwards, brushing a lock of platinum blonde hair behind her ear with scarlet-nailed fingers adorned in gaudy rings. Her gait was rather stiff; her bright red shirt fit a bit too tightly and was matched by an equally uncomfortable pair of white pants. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she readjusted her outfit, centering her necklace’s golden pendant on her chest. The large “sapphire” embedded in it sparkled even without bright lighting. Satisfied, she continued on with more relaxed strides, her silver platform heels clicking on the ground with each step. Several passersby were stopping and staring. She winked one of her icy blue eyes at a particularly agog man, who quickly looked down and resumed his shuffling. Plastique smirked at his reaction, then melted her ears. Holding her hands under the now amorphous blobs of flesh, she felt the tiny metallic clinks of many earrings landing on her palms. She stowed them in her sequined purse, reforming her ears and wearing large cuffs on them instead. She had to tuck her hair behind her ears again. Her previous adornments had spelled out a rather naughty word on one ear, so the cuffs felt more professional. Her nose and lip piercings didn’t feel particularly professional either, but she decided to leave them in. She was Plastique, after all. No one could tell her what to wear. She arrived at her destination, which she liked to call the Aquarium, and stepped inside. The clicking of her heels now sounded crisper on the smooth stone floor. She found the tanks of water embedded into the walls filled with fish rather gaudy, but had to respect the commitment to a style. This space was devoid of gawkers. Most already knew Plastique or were used to being around Epics. She planned to correct their reactions to her presence. A man approached her and tried to ask her to stop, so she melted her face. He stumbled backwards a step. The guard had likely been trying to confirm that she wasn’t an intruder of some sort. She’d changed her looks a fair bit since her last visit, no longer auburn-haired and green-eyed, and some Epics were able to imitate others quite well. She figured that a demonstration of her powers was enough proof of identification. Indeed, the man let her continue by. She unmelted her face. Her eyes itched, but she resisted the urge to rub them; that would mess up her makeup. She’d chosen a light blue eyeliner the same color as her eyes and had applied heavy eyeshadow. Her lips were a cherry red. She’d finally managed to stop her hair from brushing her face and getting stained with makeup. Plastique walked up to Fish’s office door. She knocked on it loudly, then stood impatiently. She crossed her arms and straightened her shoulders. She then switched to leaning more on one leg and uncrossed her arms. She crossed her arms again. That felt like it finally looked suitably confident. @Aeternum

A movie scene depicting Chuck Norris losing a fight with Bruce Lee was the product of history's most expensive visual effect. When adjusted for inflation, the effect cost more than the Gross National Product of Paraguay.

Here’s a ball of Christmas lights. I have an empty soda can.

Gets a cookie (applicable for both kinds of mice ). Inserts an eye of newt.

I use combustible lemons to burn it down and take the sandwich from the ashes.

Chuck Norris got his drivers license at the age of 16. Seconds.

What do you think of my outfit for the date I have tonight? Slap it with a fish.