Chapter Twenty-Five
Sonic Shuttle
If the sun could shine through the hull of Sonic, Sam would swear that she felt its warmth on her cheeks. She woke in an uncharacteristically good mood, a smile stretching across her face before she even rolled out of bed. The potency of her good mood was matched only by that of her appetite.
“Guys,” she called through the curtain that was her bedroom door. “What’re we doing for breakfast?”
“Smurflepuffins,” Joel mumbled.
Sam almost asked what that was before she realized that it was the hungover ramblings of a man woken too early from a late night.
“Come on,” Sam said. “I’m starving. Get up and make breakfast.”
“Go flufflegurf,” Joel said, sounding like he had a mouthful of cotton balls.
“Don’t know what you just said, but it sounded like you were
