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“If my math’s off, you’re in charge of my funeral. I want fireworks and cake. Lots of cake. That no one’s allowed to eat. Bury it with me.” His eyes flicked back and forth as he copied her commands onto a digital notepad. “Lots of cake, got it. Everyone starves.” — Tristen Kozinski
If my math’s off, you’re in charge of my funeral. I want fireworks and cake. Lots of cake. That no one’s allowed to eat. Bury it with me.”
His eyes flicked back and forth as he copied her commands onto a digital notepad. “Lots of cake, got it. Everyone starves.