Welcome back! Last chapter, Balboa died quietly in his sleep while a massive fire brought his jelly bean garden to the ground. It was pretty cool, and everyone is having a blast now that he’s gone.
Wtf Gumby? I was joking! You’re not actually supposed to be enjoying yourself.
Gumby: Yeehaw, Sonny Jim!
Twist it! Pull it! Flick it!
But hey, now that I’ve ruined that for you, let me… ruin lots of other things as well. Welcome back to the Langurds!
Lira: I am Mrs. Nesbitt!
We already did that.
Lira: But the readers liked it!
That doesn’t mean we get to repeat stuff.
Lira: Uh, yeah. It’s called a SEQUEL.
Okay, fine. Presenting: “Lira Drinks Tea 2: This Time with Wings.”
Alternative title: “Weston Learns to Langurd,” or “THANK THE HIGH HEAVENS WE HAVE MADE IT AT LAST.”
Welcome to the final instalment of Generation 3! Last time, the children of Generation Four acquired a new stepfather in the form of Weston Jolina-Spenster-Sekemoto. You know, Botox man? Floating glitch face? Breeding experiment? That’s the one. He’s one of us now. Or so he thinks…
Lira wasted no time in establishing the order of things.
Lira: Do you see this beautiful bicep?
Weston: What bicep?
Lira: Precisely. If you ever hurt my mama, you won’t even see it coming.
Holy moly, generation three! I’ve been procrastinating writing this because it actually feels like progress. Until I remember that I started this legacy 18 months ago, not to mention I started attempting legacies when I was a preteen. Then it just feels pathetic.
A quick note: Thank you all for voting in the heir poll! In case you missed the mini-post, Katana won. By a landslide. Lance did so poorly I’m tempted to rookie haze her.
Another note: School has returned with a vengeance, but this time my courses are all—would you believe it?—really enjoyable, so it’s gonna be a challenge on more than one level to tear myself away and procrastiblog. Yes, I am kidding myself. I will, of course, be shirking my studies wherever possible. Still, when your prof integrates this video into a lecture in a meaningful way, you can’t not do the readings.
I DIGRESS (as per usual). Time to kick this generation’s ass. But first, a word from our retiring torchbearers…
Arabella: Peace at last! I am so relieved I could just fart sparkles!
Razor: I am honoured to be a part of this manly, manly picture.
Fun fact—I call them “retiring torchbearers” but neither has fulfilled a LTW as of yet,
because they are useless because their LTW’s are a bitch and a half. Thus, as sick of them as we may be, they still have some screen time to look forward to.