New deal. Double the gold. And a sausage. Hot.
Kirtu crosses his arms. The helmet slips over his eyes. kirtu comic
A long, silent beat. The red eyes blink. Slowly, a gnarled, clawed hand emerges from the cave, holding a single, sad-looking sausage on a fork. New deal
I have a SYSTEM.
Pull the lever, Kirtu.
No.
