07/23/2026
Mommy... she would not be proud of me today. 🤫
Meet Agatha. A true legend of our craft. One clean strike, three seconds flat, and she still had time to bake a perfect pie afterward. She had the most magnificent chin, a flawless beard, and a silhouette that made kingdoms tremble.
And then there is me. Training by the guillotine, trying to pull the rope just right, and yet... I feel like I’ve completely lost my touch. I am just a shadow of her greatness.
(And yes, she is an absolute beauty. Don't even think about agreeing otherwise if you value your neck.)
I need to find my spark again, if only to honor her memory. But who am I supposed to talk to in this century? A blacksmith? A priest? Brian?
Help me out here, because I am completely stuck. Drop your best advice in the comments below: what should I do to get my dark inspiration back? 👇🪓