(Wist drops a box of Crayons in Griffer's hands and with a massive yawn, points to the Activities Section.)
I'm going to sleep now. If I come back and anyone ate/nibbled/scratched/insulted/painted/snowballed/crushed/squished/excluded/pinned/plastered/swamped/obliterated and/or does anything in general that has the potential to stand my fur on end, be warned, it won't be pretty once I use my faithful sword which you have all likely noticed on the new Fantasy Section. And I will be headhunting.
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