Pinky-Von-Sox and the Cave of Squawking Mumbles
His voice was excited, warm, joyful, friendly, voicelely, seemingly defecating delight in a way which bathed the third eye, and yet I still knew exactly what he meant. This was Leaves. That meant by ‘an adventure’, Leaves meant he wanted to go out somewhere local do something violently unadventurous.
‘Your mother slaves in the kitchen all day to serve those flies for you, stop being so ungrateful you little shit!’ his dad screamed in response.