“Well, I feel like shit, so that tracks,” Mayflower said. He stepped aside, but a scurrying scuffle behind him nearly tripped him. “Damn it, Abe!” he cursed as the familiar dashed away. He grumbled and turned to limp back to his chair. “Abe?” Grimsby asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Is that short for Abraham?” “No,” Mayflower growled, settling himself in his indentation with a wince. “Abomination. But I’d suffocate wasting that much breath on that many syllables every time the damn thing annoys me.” As if answering a summons, Abe sauntered out from behind the chair. His
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What did I say about the dad pet meme.
