Not a very large boy, but at least he was of a size useful for the tillage of some hundreds of acres of fresh yam-scorpion hybrids I've been working on. It seems sad how the boy of only a week ago had that dreadful incident whilst trying to bake one for that infernal Irish holiday. Perhaps I will buy a female boy to help this one repopulate my herd.
Anyway, it's been a hard day, what with all the ruckus when a freshly dug-up yam-scorpion commandeered an armoured transport. The little scamp! I so love to see them futily fleeing while I calmly set the Microwave cannon to "lightly browned". And I must say, this one was magnificent laid out on the platter with shallots and water cress. Ah, if only mother could taste the fruits of her labours, the scrimped savings going into my college education, the warm pies delivered to my dorm during the genetics finals, the sad eyes as I used her DNA in my first horse-human-onion hybrids.
