Yeah, I do her nails sometimes.
Not pretty, looks like a nasty case of tourette tics flared when slopping on that smelly crap. I mostly fat-finger it and get Green Leprechaun Twinkle Puff smeared all over her cuticles and perhaps my pants. The stuff reeks, like a bottle of crazy glue brewed with glitter and lead paint.
Time for a reload, so she pulls out a double-zip freezer baggie full of 54 vials of stink paint. No idea why she has them in a Ziploc, I think so she could bring them to her mom's house last visit.
I hear the crack of glass in the other room.
A faint uh oh.
The smell of crazy glue and glitter.
The talons, sans polish, since both of us are afraid to enter "The Bag":
What should I do with this pile of blown-up polish? I removed the broken bottle. Am I a bad person for being tempted to stuff it in Pigtails' overnight bag so it travels to her mom's house for her weekend visit?
And I have no clue what that white foam thingy is in the picture. Could be a dog brush or toothbrush holder. I'm a boy, how would I know?