[open] ladies call me Subway because I've got low-quality meat and lie about being 6 inches;

[satire]

Before McDonald’s, I bet “don’t buy cheeseburgers from a clown” was a pretty hard and fast rule. Satire is a fearsome warrior, as long as his opponent is an inanimate object that’s not sharp or anything. In those fights, he’s only cried a few times after. He’s a definite Alliance contender, and it’s a shame he’s not in any kingdom, because he would have 100% been nominated, and 100% have won all his battles like the warrior he is. Well. Probably. If there’s infinite universes out, we can only deduce that there’s a universe where Satty is an alliance winner, a sentence so terrifying it sounds Lovecraftian (hey Microsoft Word don’t you tell me that’s not a word, it IS, it means “like H.P. Lovecraft,” DON’T TEST ME). Anyway. With that theory, there’s also a universe where he’s handsome, and one where he’s charming. This is none of those universes. He staggers a little bit when the filly (wonder woman voice: a baaaaby!) stumbles into him. He outweighs her by *coughing noise to mask his unhealthy weight*, but he also has the balance of a drunk frat boy, so this isn’t an unexpected development. He doesn’t fall completely over (small victories) so once he dramatically plants his feet and realizes he’ll stay upright he grins at the filly. “It’s okay!” he says, because in Satty world, pretty much everything is okay, always, and god, what I wouldn’t give to live there!! “Hi Valensia,” he says, “that’s a pretty name.” “My name is Satire,” he says, then drops his tone, as if sharing a confidential secret (another secret: that’s a really unnecessary adjective but I like it, okay), “but you can call me Satty.”