“Pill, go away, I have a story to write.”
“No.”
“Pill.”
“NO!”
“Corspilla, GO AWAY.”
“I wont! You always write about grouchy mean paladin and the booze thief, or that blue skinned thingy or the red skinned stabby lady. Sometimes you even write about the prickly priestess! You never write about me!”
“Now, Pill, that’s not true.”
“Is too! What about the whole story about me learning to turn into things? You never even wrote about the turkey adventure. And I was supposed to turn into a huge dragon and glomp the booze thief and burn him too!”
“I got sidetracked. Not like I finished Dorri and Keltyr’s Cata stories either.”
“So? I don’t like them.”
“You don’t like anyone.”
“do too! I like Davien and… Verdus! I like Verdus.”
“You like Verdus because he gives you drinks and lets you light him on fire.”
“I haven’t lit him on fire in years. I haven’t lit ANYONE on fire in years. I’ve been good. And it’s boring. Booooring. BOOORING.”
“For the love of god, stop shouting.”
“BOOORIN…”
“CORSPILLA!”
“ng” *mad cackling*
“This! This is why you don’t get any writing. Cause you are so obnoxious.”
“LIES!”
“FINE! I’ll write some more about you learning to turn into creatures. okay? Just shoo.”
“Now”
“No, I need to go home so I can raid.”
“NOW”
“PILL! Shut up, I said I do it, leave me in piece.”
“And no more blue lady.”
“Don’t push it.”
“BAH!”
Itanya rambles on and on 