Michael, Michael, Michael. <shakes head slowly> Have you looked into how much a new muse will cost? We could have a bake sale to help out!
Now, that's an interesting thought...
Wha--?
*twack*
ouch ouch ouch ouch
/muse pushes slumped over body away from keyboard/
You want to buy a new muse? You think muses are replaceable like prostitutes? Just because I was suggesting that Polly's idea had merit and that you could get a way with painting a tight evening dress on Lola and having her look for paying company on a party while the editor of the Daily Planet is accepting a waddle of cash doesn't mean *I* can be bought. Or replaced.
/muse huffs and walks away from keyboard./
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
Umm... Sue, your idea didn't really sit well with Muse. And now she's really ticked off.
Michael, limping off, trying to hide from low-flying sharp objects, like pens. And... is that Alexander's sword? Yep, she's ticked off. Big time.
