Poor Bertie, he’s got spots.
I legit read this thinking there was going to be more about Bertie becoming a Trill.
I have been working on this painting too long.
…now I want there to be a Wooster symbiont.
You spend all these years studying and hoping and proving yourself and one day you’re chosen oh my god what an honour and they put the symbiont on your belly with reverent hands and you’re filled with glory as it joins itself with you and there are no words, oh, there are no words–
And then suddenly there are.
What ho, you whisper, wise beyond your years, finally understanding. Oh, what ho.