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[There's a poof and here is Wolfwood, carrying a greasy brown bag that smells of fresh donuts close to his chest. He looks around quickly, and let's out his breath, shoulders sagging and a troubled expression crossing his face. He dons a tired smile and smooths the front of his decidedly bright apron, graced with a big yellow smiley face.]
Hey needle noggin! You 'round here? [digs out a cigarette but can't light it up yet] Where'd that spikey idiot run off too? I got his dammed donuts, as promised.
Hey needle noggin! You 'round here? [digs out a cigarette but can't light it up yet] Where'd that spikey idiot run off too? I got his dammed donuts, as promised.
Current Mood: 
harassed
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