Coconut Grove the day is done, but i'm having fun

the rock, or whatever it was, proved unyielding -- even between the powerful clasp of rannveig's strong jaws. lazy as he was, his strength was no slouch -- rannveig had the bonesplitter's prowess nestled in those thin jaws, and even then, the rock remained entirely unaffected by his crunching.

he sighed and tenderly moved his jaws back and forth as govinda appeared: a burning sensation below his mandible had worked its way into his mouth, and the muscle's fatigue snarled along his cheek and neck. propping the 'rock' in front of him with his long legs, rannveig silently announced his defeat.

what confused him, however, was the mention of milk -- rather stupidly he responded: "milk? rocks don't have milk." he said it with all of the infuriating assurance of an ignoramus, and even offered a smarmy, stupid-shibe smile that govinda could be so silly to think rocks lactated. that was strictly a mammal business, as far as rannveig was concerned.

silly govinda. milk. scoff.