The sequel we never asked for but git anyway

"Come on, you can do it, Avarice!"

"Jacky! No, I can't!"

"Oh, don't be a baby!"

"I said I want to have fun…not this!"

Avarice complained as the overly touchy lady kept touching him—wrong wording—Dragging him to skate on the super thin ice floor.

"I will hold your hands, don't worry!"

Avarice held her and looked at her O-large-pincers of doom. He awkwardly smiled and said,

"I need that hand. I use it for… stuff!"

"Stuff? What kind of stuff?!"

"You either get it, or you don't!"

"What kind of, oh—"

"Yeah!"

"I guess I'll just do it all alone!"

Jacker squandered away with crabby skaters adorned on her legsters! Looking down like a sad puppy- with her antenna coming down. She was very good at puppy art, I would know. I have a dog.

"I- don't do this to me!" Avarice said with a downtrodden expression. It was pretty clear at this point that— he had PTSD from snow. It suppressed every male gene he might have previously had in his body–yes, he once had them–