A certain halfling chokes on his toffee, molars gummed up and almost bound together by the candied treat. The noise of confusion he makes is unintelligible - if it weren't for his mouth being full of sweet delights he would be cursing at being undercut by fifty whole andros! Ack!
"Made in one dem Zadh sweat pits... at least them craftsmen of my poseable action mercs ave a salary-sacrifice horse-to-work scheme an equitable hirin practices"
