“I don’t know…”
I gritted my teeth. “Make up your mind! I can’t stand your waffling.”
“Both options look good!” she protested. “I hate being forced to choose…”
“Here,” I said, “I’ll choose for you.” I flung a waffle onto her plate.
“But,” she said, “maybe I want a pancake…”
This story is based on a title suggested by @PoshPlatypus.
He’d killed his first outlaw after drinking bourbon for breakfast; it had become part of his routine.
For similar reasons, he drank saké for supper and lemonade for lunch, though he didn’t much advertise the latter.
One time he swallowed mud at midnight, so he let the train robbers go.
This story is based on a title suggested by the ever profuse @MisterFiendZero.
“I hate cereal! I tell you this every. Single. Morning.”
“If you want waffles or bacon you’re free to prepare them yourself.”
“No way! That’s a MOM’s job!”
“Are you paying me?”
He was supposed to be. It cost thirty bucks an hour to get someone from Made Of Maids.