Lingo n. (pl. -s or -es) colloq. 1 foreign language. 2 vocabulary of a special subject or group. [probably from Portuguese lingoa from Latin lingua tongue]
'i've told you before, evil queen, i'm not falling for the poisoned app'
but what she saw stopped her in her tracks. gleaming in the late afternoon sun, scores of chocolate muffins neatly arranged in a basket. held up to her by a beautiful young girl - blue eyes and red hair and freckles and all - who smiled the shiniest smile s.w. had ever seen.
'for you, madam. we live next door, my mom has just baked these delicious chocolate muffins to welcome you to the neighbourhood. and there's enough for the seven dwarves as well - we can only imagine how difficult it must be to make ends meet when you have eight mouths to feed everyday.'
'oh i don't know what to say, oh you shouldn't have, oh that's awfully sweet, oh they look positively scrumptious', s.w. muttered with teary eyes as she accepted the generous token. 'are they really chocolate, no funny mixtures? i have a very sensitive stomach, you see, my gastroenterologist says that's what keeps me this slender.'
and she grabbed one of the small round muffins from the basket, admiring its deep brown, its inviting glaze, its tempting chocolate chips.
'nothing but pure chocolate', the little girl replied, 'none of that cheap processed cocoa powder crap.'
in her rapture, s.w. failed to aprehend the hint of the girl's last word, surely unfitting her gracious innocent countenance - and in ecstasy sunk her newly polished teeth into the tender dough.
intense delight spread through every single nerve of her body, only to be chased by convulsion. nausea. both her hands covering her mouth, the muffins scattered all over the floor. back sliding down the doorpost. the whole world in a crazed spin. with her last remaining energy, s.w. searched for the little girl. but she was nowhere to be seen.
a pitch-dark voice echoed above the treetops the very moment s.w. lost consciousness.
'oh did i mention ricotta? i hope you're not lactose intolerant. muhwa. muhwahaha.'
you get what you can get, and we don't want to hear another word on the subject. we don't care if your landlady has left all the closets full of her underwear, it's not our business if the landlord wants you to pay for the 1957 oven that ceased to work, we couldn't be bothered if they hold you responsible for the asfixiation of their petunias, cold drafts or gas leaks aren't our problem. what were you expecting? incidentally, there's a waiting list of 5.218 poor bastards for this property. and my favourite cocktail is a Fuzzy Navel.