The green glop splats in one of the Cycloppo's faces, spattering onto the other.
Keen folds his arms over his chest with a content expression on his face.
"You were saying?"
The alien's twin mouths depressed in a frown, punctuating, "A very busy day."
The alien lunges.
What should Keen do?
This chapter was written by Ceilick on 2014-03-19 21:13:43