15 February 2012 @ 10:32 pm
LEGEND OF MAYFIELD VIII: The Demeaning Dire Desire for Delicious Dairy!  
[FEBRUARY 12 (7132 Brooks Lane, Evening)]

[The flower bouquet provided for the household on Sunday morning hardly escapes the notice of Key-Fu. Well, almost. He'd been power walking right past them before freezing in mid-stride and turning his head to look at what's different about the mantle.]

Behold! A wire of flowers has darkened the desktop!

[So Key-Fu leans forward, sticking his head right into the mass of flowers, and taking a big whiff—and keeping his head there, even while he remarks on their scent.]

By the boulevard of broken dreams! I have been bequeathed a buttermilk bouquet!

[Looks like Key-Fu figured out it was milkweed he'd received, but if Key-Fu really didn't enjoy the smell of those flowers, it sure isn't visible from that crosseyed grin of his.]

[FEBRUARY 13 (7132 Brooks Lane, Evening)]

[Despite the almost overpowering smell of sour milk that permeates the house, Key-Fu doesn't seem of a mind to complain. But something happens right around dinnnertime, just as Key-Fu's sitting down to the dinner table. After a moment's time, he goes to stand back up, but pauses midway, staring right at the wall for a good half-minute. Then—he leaps onto his feet, thrusting a pointed finger into the air!]

Forsooth! The pyramid of much dieting demands more cowbell!

[And with that, Key-Fu springs out of the house, nearly knocking the door off its hinges as he does. Dinner? Forget dinner, he's got a more pressing craving to take care of! Key-Fu is about as gentle with getting into the family's car and tearing out of the driveway, too. That poor defenseless mailbox didn't know what hit it.]

[FEBRUARY 13, 14, AND 15 (Anywhere in Mayfield, Morning to Evening, OPEN TO ALL)]

[So, Mayfield, you've got a malaproping martial artist burning rubber through the town streets every so often from the evening of the 13th to the 15th, as he speeds to the Neutron Diner for a mlkshake every few hours (if that) in the day. Are you affected by Milkweed too? Do you crave milky marvels of your own? Flag Key-Fu down and prepare to join the FEAAAAST! Or, Key-Fu can pick you up and haul you to his car if you desire.]

[Key-Fu being who he is, though, he's not exactly the safest of drivers. So you better fasten that seatbelt! Or ... just look both ways before crossing the street.]