Irony.. is a very funny thing to behold.
Now, I don't mean funny in the sort of "Hah-hah" way, although, I suppose sometimes it can be.
No, I mean it in the sort of way when you're looking Larxene dead in the eyes - when it just happens to be that certain time of the month when viscous red life fluids seep from regions I care to never ponder on in correlation to the savage nymph - and you know that you stole the last cup of coffee and that she's had a late morning because she had a rough night - possibly killing things - and you've just happened to push away her favorite copy of Marquis de Sade that she was reading and told her to "Get to work," and you suddenly realize why there has been a shortage of sharp kitchen knives lately and you laugh in a fit of hysterics because you know she's going to kill you and kill you hard.
I think I lost track of where I was going with this. My head has been a little in the clouds, lately.