Shepherd is checking through his mail.

Shepherd: "Let's see... Junk, junk, junk, junk, junk... Charity request... Junk... Junk... Charity request... Eh? Ticket?"

He opens the gold pressed envelope and pulls out a golden ticket and a letter.

Shepherd: "Let's see... 'Dear Ser Shepherd, you are cordially invited to the Grand Galloping Gala. Here is a ticket. You are encouraged to have an escort-.' Ugh. High society ball?"

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This is my 200th blog post (well, maybe: Fimfiction's database is buggier than a parasprite invasion when it comes to tracking simple counts), and I recently topped 400 followers too!

Also, I'm making quick progress on a vidya game that will be amazing.

Today should, by all rights, be time to party.

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