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3vil Chef.

Icy wicy

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Lady Cyan: *Phew* I haven't done a blog in a while...
Pompous Prof. Cyan: Do you know why that is?
L. Cyan: No. I had supposed the cause had something to do with my exhaustion of late.
Pompous Prof. Cyan: You are incorrect, madame. True, you have been inordinately lazy, a lapse brought on by the sleepy weepies, which is quite to be expected in the winter splinters, but mainly, my colleagues and I have uncovered the cause to be of much more serious origins... *pause for dramatic effect*
Lady Cyan: Oh? *pouring more tea* Do go on, Doctor.
Pompous Prof. Cyan, snagging a cookie and setting it on his tea saucer before adjusting his tiny spectacles: Madame, there is no delicate way to put this. You....have contracted a sickness in your travels abroad.
Lady Cyan, fidgeting: Oh, is it serious, Professor? Please, do not pause so! Blurt it out or I shall scream.
Pompous Prof Cyan: Can you comprehend...well...When you went on that safari and spent all that time outdoors tending to those roosters in your backyard...it appears your fingers got cold.
Lady Cyan: Cold...? Whatever are you getting at, you oaf? Spit it out!
Pompous Prof Cyan: That's just it. They became so cold that you found it tedious to type. The condition has taken its toll upon your drawings and gaming as well. You avoid these things because you innately sense that your fingers are accumulating the icy wicies.
Lady Cyan: FINE. I'll turn up the heat. But I sooo wanted to save more money this year...

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