what's wrong with being a platypus?
I know, right? It's like people have some weird objection to venemous ankle spines or sweating milk. The last time I sold a bottle, the guy came back saying he -
*a robot smashes into the table*
- and he couldn't jog anymore without tripping over his ankles, which also meant that the -
*bugs fly noisily out of the robot and swarm all over the place*
- because the venom paralyzed him from the waist down ... Or something like that. It's kind of hard to tell what they're saying sometimes, what with the bill snout and all -
*the robot crackles and bursts into flames*
- pretty sure he intended to sue, but of course he couldn't because he had no fungible assets or matching ID. He never got over it, though ... and I think they deported him to Tazmania after that incident with the spaniels.
