"Oh, yeah..." Digger shook his head finally piecing it together. This was the five year old on the keyboard. "Yes, I'm the guy that makes wings."
"Slo---damnit, he's not making you wings tonight," Greed popped Sloth's hand, then looked over his shoulder at Digger. "Not unless he wants to?" Then he flashed that blaring-white grin. Could Digger say no to that?