“And so the guy says ‘Well, if I wanted a dairy theme, I would’ve played ‘Churnin’ for You” by Moo-Cloistered Malt!'”, the dandy said, fighting back a giggle. His companion snickered. A tabby looked up from its half-eaten pineapple pizza and mewed strangely. In the bookstore across the street, a copy of Les Miserables unceremoniously fell on the floor. A college student sputtered as the olives in her sub exploded, spattering mustard all over her cardigan.
Faint blue lightning licked at the alley’s walls, and something Richard Crawford-shaped began to form and stir. It grinned. It had the perfect tweet.