That awkward moment you are all creepy stalkers.
Considerate creepy stalkers.
The kindest of stalkers.
Certainly the most devoted stalkers. And the friendliest.
Solemnly promising to keep the secret.
Cross my heart and hope to die.
But I don’t hope to die.
We can stalk and then be immortal.
We can’t be immortal first?
I, for one, am already immortal.
I, for one, would welcome you but I already have an overlord.
Overthrow your overlord and your overtly overbalanced life!
My life is overthrowed enough as it is.
The word you’re looking for here is “overthrown”. But not like a rug.
You and your fancy english wordings. Go back to your space hotel.
You’re welcome to follow me back, you being a stalker and all.
I thought we were sisters in stalking.
Exactly. You follow me back to my space hotel, and I’ll follow you to the basement.
My basement smells like dungeon. I do not recommend it.
Either way, that’s preferable to smelling like a toilet. On that note, I don’t recall ever having smelled a dungeon, so I’m not really one to judge.
It smells like humidity, salt and spiders.