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"want a gumball?" "no thanks. it'll give me an anxiety attack." "acid?" "yeah, acid." foxglove thinks people waste their LSD by putting it in gumball machines and wrapped candy. she has a bowl of candy in her house that's for other people, because there's only acid on it if she eats it herself. and whenever she feels the slightest thing wrong (a muscle spasm, a wiggly thing in her ribs, etc.) she has an anxiety attack and thinks she's dying. (i don't think she'd be a hypochondriac if her mother weren't a doctor. i have a feeling that the only time foxglove was ever nurtured was when she was ill. it's the only way she knows of to obtain love and affection.) foxglove's foot looks like it was attacked by a staple gun. we kept coming up with scenarios as to how it might have happened. she thought it looked like a dwarf had mugged her. i thought a little gremlin snuck into her bed at night and went at it (with a staple gun). or maybe she did it herself. "i hate you i hate you!" or maybe "my hand! my hand is going out of control! no! no! oww oww oww!" what actually happened is that her horse fell on her several years ago (they said she'd never walk again) and they had to reoperate a few weeks ago to remove a bone spur and a couple of bolts. |