Another late night at Camp Hope (oh Louisiana my darling)

"Eh! This is your crotch-spork, and I'm eating with it again."

This was in the middle of an intense giggle-fest while finishing off an absent someone else's birthday cake, and to be fair the spork did belong to my friend before she flicked it at me and it landed in my lap, therefor instantly becoming "my" crotch-spork. Much giggling followed, including theories on why crotch spork sounded like a fine name for an alien.

"I am Krotch Sppork. Take me to your leader."

The cake was good; it was almond.