Piscivore
Smelling fishy
I get my morals from a child's brittle old folded paper fortune teller I found singed in a broken E-Z Bake oven hidden in the dimly lit attic of an abandoned farmhouse overlooking fields in which no wholesome living thing would grow.
It's worked out well so far, except for that one time I chanted the softly glowing words it revealed and Mr. Near Laffy-tap crawled out of the oily shadows and told me I had to kill them all before he could give me the present he brought.
It's worked out well so far, except for that one time I chanted the softly glowing words it revealed and Mr. Near Laffy-tap crawled out of the oily shadows and told me I had to kill them all before he could give me the present he brought.