Salutations! I, the All-Knowing Quaggan, have returned to answer more of your questions. This week, only one question was submitted for me, so I am pleased to report that I will be demanding your attention for only a brief amount of time. This pleases me because I have a bottle of white wine over here delicately positioned in front of two seasons of American Gladiators reruns.
I have been trying to learn about your culture prior to your arrival in my world, and I must say, you are most entertaining – entertaining in the educationally-deficient puppy walking into a fence with repeated success kind of way, but nonetheless entertaining.
My skritt slaves are in place and ready to transcribe my nobel responses to your singular question. If you wish to ask me a question of life, love and luxury for next week, I can be reached on Twitter at @AllKnowingQuagg or by email, at AllKnowingQuaggan@gmail.com. Comments to this page would also suffice.
Greetings and saluations,
How squishie are Quaggan’s? They look soooo squishie!
From a distance, quaggan are very, very squishy. Then again, most of my kind aren’t very bright and spend their days eating the most ill-nutritious meals imaginable – even when they no longer have the storage capacity for such things.
Mrs. All-Knowing and I are a different breed of quaggan, however. We exercise daily, schedule within our availability routine, serial tickle fights and – as the saying goes – swimming, swimming, swimming all summer long. We look much like your American Gladiators. These rolls in the areas immediately surrounding my chin? They are pure muscle, and I use them to crush rocks when I smile.
Mrs. All-Knowing is an unforgiving force of nature. She was once approached by Destiny’s Edge to save the entirety of Tyria, but she for whatever reason prioritized a bottle of skotch over cementing her legacy in a manner that would be about as solid as my own ripped, unforgiving fitness.