Customs and innards…delicious.

My floor looks like a plush slaughterhouse, with cut up strips of fleece resembling really soft adorable entrails and button eyes scattered throughout. Last night I completed one of the many new custom orders on my plate. Then later I heard some rustling around downstairs in the kitchen and upon inspection I found the new kid rummaging through the fridge. She isn’t housebroken yet and for this I blame myself. She’ll be ready soon. Her name is Vicky.