See this bee? I'm about to snap the dragon down on this bee.

Oh no it didn’t! How am *I* a pussy! Huh-uh, no, no way! Every greenthumb on your block knows I put the snapdown on the famous rose every day. Just look at my understated yet vibrant color. No desperate cries for attention here. “LOVE me, homely coffeeshop girl who I’m barely acquainted with!!” Just ain’t my style. Snap.

That blue-blooded rose, I tellya. Always comes with a card–the race card. Well, my genus diversifies too, in pretty purples, reds, oranges, yellows and whites. That’s right, exactly like the *other* dragons that run around frying knights and gobbling up all the fairest damsels. Snap. Come on, who needs thorns when you’ve got PASTEL going for you?

There’s been a lot of talk lately about how roses Get You Sex. Billy and Harold missed this news flash when they celebrated Senior Skip Day for the twentieth time, but it just ain’t true. For every guy that buys his girl a rose and actually gets laid, there are 4 others getting nothing but bitched at because they bought the wrong color! Snap. Truth is, every human female tells you the *one* color rose she’ll tolerate, and she does it during the very first hour you meet. Look at you, playing for the floral power move and fucking it up like that. I’m so much easier on the eyes and your wallet, and if it still doesn’t work out, at least you’re not standing there in the rain holding an armful of what I can only describe as a too-costly imitation of wilting, menstruating vaginas. Snap.

Spare yourself some serious pain and gather up one of my fly arragements. Pick a color, I’ll accommodate–every one comes standard with a 10d20 breath weapon. NOW how are you liking your chances with Janey tonight? Snap.