The rubber crackled and smoked, smoldering on its burning perch in the spindles and wheels underneath the Mustang's hood before coming apart and falling to the asphalt. Later I'd be bothered by all the things I could have should have done to prevent my car's fan belt from catching fire, but for the time being I was just baffled and hoping that was the only part of the vehicle aflame.

I do not have the free time to pretend that I'll be able to make cube plushes, so they're removed from the store for now.

A quarter after eight? The hours go by with terrifying ease.

For those of you who'd like a refresher on Moo.

-Tyrus Peace