"I'm fine. It's fine, don't worry about it," you say, ignoring how weird it is to see your moirail among the trapping of Magrat's place. Normally you're waking Papa up like this and hoping you don't accidentally touch any weird fluids. Of course, thinking about your Papa just making the rage roil in your gut. It's becoming an old friend now, which is just...great. You push the thought away. "How did those Erotagrubs end up on the table out there? You guys didn't touch them outside of the packaging, did you?