“...Hey, didn’t I kill you, like, three years ago?”
“Ha! Bold of you to assume I can die just by falling into a mine shaft! You’ll have to do better than that, Sir Mist!”
"I see. Also, I could not help but notice you are not wearing a face mask, Sir Alfred. Are you not concerned about catching the plague?”
“Are you unfamiliar with my employer, Sir Mist? It’s a miracle I haven’t caught any virus at all!”
“All the more reason to stand more than six feet away from me if you will.”
“Sir Mist, I am sure you are already aware of this, but I am in 1998 and you’re... somewhere in the middle ages. We could not be more socially distanced if we tried.”
“And yet we are speaking to each other right now.”
“Don’t question the logic, Sir Mist. By the way, what did you think of that Christmas present I sent you?”
“You mean the tongue ring? Sir Alfred, what use would I even have for something like this? I am a black atheist in the middle ages; I don’t even have the excuse of wearing it for religious reasons!”
“Oh, you know, it’s just one of those things that they say could, you know, spice things up in your relationship.”
“Oh, hell no. You did not just mock the love of my life again!”
“HAHA YOUR WIFE DOESN’T HAVE A TONG--”
“I THINK WE ESTABLISHED THIS WON’T KILL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...!!”
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Not gonna lie. It feels good to continue this saga after all these years, even if I’m probably the only person on the planet who is entertained by it. It’s like my own little personal inside joke that I’m 100% convinced that no one else will ever fully appreciate. And that’s okay. Because in the end all that matters is that I find it funny. And I do.
Also, on an unrelated note, I missed my AO3 “update once a month” deadline. I’m gonna let that one slide though, because there was a lot going on last month IRL, so I’ll just try to make up for it by... okay, this is not a promise, but I will try to find time to update and/or write new fics on AO3 twice this month, to make up for last month. Cool? Cool.