As Tasha watched the failed scientist nosh on urban wildlife, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Mike, of her favorite pretend band Cake Cream.

"OMG, Mike from Cake Cream!" she squealed.

"Hiya Tasha. So, I wanted to ask you a favor." Mike rubbed his neck. "Could you, um, maybe could you write about me enjoying a really hearty breakfast of sausage and grits the next time you write a chapter?" Mike blushed shyly because he couldn't believe he was talking to THE Tasha.

"Anything for you, Mike."

"Thanks. By the way, what's going on over there?" He gestured toward the gruesome scene with Abby and the crow.

Tasha shrugged. "I ain't know that ho."