She supposed she shouldn't be terribly surprised that she had a cold. The peafowl was in hell... a place of eternal suffering and all that jazz.
Still that knowledge did nothing to soothe the growing irritation that came with being sick. Mimzy always loathed being ill.
It cut into her job β
which meant less money with meant she wouldn't be able to buy nice things.
In hell it meant more or less the same thing, but with the added downgrade of not being able to go out and party.
Well ok... as the flapper thought more on it with her hazy mind, there were the same issues that she had β
when she was alive.
Grumbling Mimzy rolled in her bed, her hair a mess and her skin was an even more ghastly shade than usual. Nicely putting it, as she looked in a mirror.
She was a mess... a horrible sickly mess
"Stupid cold."
Mimzy could only hope that it did not get worse.
