“Webbysite backsies? Nu fowebba sweepies?”
“That’s right, Racecar. It turns out @Virgil is a sort of man-fox psychic vampire who was able to use the pure spite that a bunch of shitheads on the internet inspired by celebrating his downfall into a burst of pure heroic power that resurrected the website and also made weggy transplants possible for most pillows.”
“W…wha?”
“Not for you though. Something about cartilidge, idk. Didn’t ask.”
“Su…nu wooz webbysite?”
“Bingo! Isn’t it great?”
“But Wacecaw nu picshuw nu mowe?”
“Racecar! That’s not like you. I’m very disappointed that you’d be so selfish!”
“Huh? N-nu! Wacecaw nu wan! Nu wike be picshuw! Tuu scawy! Haftu weaw siwwy hown hat aww tiem!”
“Don’t try to weasel out of this buddy, I’ve got to put you in the sorry box for thirty minutes.”
“Huuuu sowwy daddeh, nu mean tu make daddeh saddies wif sewf…seffish…nuff? Huuuuuu suuu hawd… At weast nu haftu pway meanie gamesies wiff Baxtew nu mowe…”
“What? No, now that’s ALL you’re doing. Gotta get those stories uploaded, mister. I’M clearly too lazy to do it.”
“Huuuuuu…”
“Just for forgetting that, I’m gonna dump all these cold damp coffee grounds on you. Have a nice nap, you JERK.”
“Huuuuuuuuu Wacecaw sowwy…”
“Not yet you’re not.”
