>>6015944>"Huh. What's it made of?"Meg grins
<span class="mu-i">"Flavor."</span>
She waves her hands
<span class="mu-i">"For actuals though it's concentrated from the good shit giving willingly by the rot dryad. Just their name. Also they stink. Their juice and fruit and a bit of this and that can get you hooked, get you clean or get you off. All about the ratios. I got it all. Hoo hoo. Ha hoo. It's all natural. Dryad gives it willingly. We cool here. Noen of that new business model shit here. Gotta work WITH nature. Why do those holes keep opening? It's cause the gods are pissed. They gave us shit that works and we think we know better. Dancing with the devil and stepping on his feet the whole time. You dumb son of a bitch."</span>
You feel, accurately, that Meg often talks at people not to them.
>Aight. How much will you charge for it?Meg shimmies
<span class="mu-i">"Fingers and penises from 5 dudes."</span>
Jorn winces.
<span class="mu-b">"45?"
Meg slaps the counter and points
<span class="mu-i">"YES! That many."</span>
Meg becomes fascinated with her own hands
<span class="mu-i">"I mean, they call 'em fingers. But I never seen them fing."</span></span>
