A Well-earned Breakfast

We were all so sticky and sweaty after our little botanical jaunt that we had to have a quick wash before going out again for breakfast.  Here we all are at a local establishment called Fuego.  “Fuego” means “fire,” Sigyn, and there are little flames all over the menu, so I think we must be very careful about our selections…


Sigyn is intrigued by the Cowboy one.


Dr. Pepper?  Chipolte cream corn?  Sounds revolting. I am leaning a little toward ordering the Widow Maker for the human female.  It would solve a lot of problems.


We are number 51.  Sigyn is very excited because they just served number 49!


Well, rats. The human female sneaked behind my back and ordered boring old potato and egg.


What, no cheese?  I do, however, approve of its piping-hotness.

The human male is going to liven up his order with this sneaky-looking green sauce.


I don’t trust it.

Mmm. Breakfast tacos are a good thing.  Messy, though.


Nothing eight or ten yards of paper towels won’t fix.  Be very careful, dearest, that you are not bundled away with the table trash!

(discreet burping)  Sun, flowers, and lots of food.  I do believe it is time for a nap.

>|: 9


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