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Rose: Regret being a Junior Crazy Cat Lady
[Shortly before 2:00 PM on Friday afternoon is a very bad time to be an innocent captive of Paradisa, perusing the journal after lunch - or in the middle of the night, for the more nocturnal residents. A very bad time indeed, because quite a ways away from the castle, on a small nightstand next to Rose's small outpost bed, a cat named Constance is doing one of the things that cats do best:
Vomiting on an inappropriate surface. Namely, a page of the open journal.]
Blrckkk.
... Oh, really now, Constance. That was hardly polite. [Her voice grows louder as she moves across the room towards the journal.] Deepest apologies, truly. My cat seems to have a frightening proficiency for consuming inedible matter - an equally proficient aim, as well, depending on how one looks at things.
... While I've gotten your attention, however crudely, does anyone have sufficient experience in troubleshooting a sewing machine, in a manner of speaking?
Vomiting on an inappropriate surface. Namely, a page of the open journal.]
Blrckkk.
... Oh, really now, Constance. That was hardly polite. [Her voice grows louder as she moves across the room towards the journal.] Deepest apologies, truly. My cat seems to have a frightening proficiency for consuming inedible matter - an equally proficient aim, as well, depending on how one looks at things.
... While I've gotten your attention, however crudely, does anyone have sufficient experience in troubleshooting a sewing machine, in a manner of speaking?