<br/><div class="floatright">(https://static1.e621.net/data/73/04/7304dc8f10fe674ae218fcb15bf72b4e.jpg)</div><strong>Meathead</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1F45IckRWiHbGrf37buxSoLRk0CW4GhpKEC8bDNExUSk/edit)<br/>Stepping out into the sun once more the bog oaf smiled. His hands once more slipped under her arms as he lifted her. He sat her upon his shoulder, like a child getting a piggy back ride from a parent before he strode down the street. His foot falls were heavy, but steady as he went, the area they passed zipping by at a brisk pace before he turned down a street into a open street with many stands and other odd sights. Streamers, flier, and a number of grills set up with just as many stands serving all assortment of drinks.