The Humans' Survival of the Fittest
This is God's home.
God?
He gives us sweets and names and such.
My title of "Sir" was originally granted to me by God.
Unfortunately, it seems that God is not here today.
Normally there is a wonderful God here.
What is it?
I feel like this is something very important.
Flour, huh?
I'd like to eat some freshly-baked cookies.
I can make some!
Done!
Familiar!
Is it done now?
I want to rest.
Oh, right... My pet ladybug was named Algernon...
When I become dumb, someone feed Algernon for me...
I don't want it.
No more.
Smells good...
I'm back!
Are you all right?
Miss, they've just finished baking.
Time to eat!
Stop!
These cookies are actually poisonous!
You must not eat them!
I'm confiscating them!
What?!
Do you think I'm being disgraceful?
Well, I had to!
These cookies are made from my intelligence.
In the end, I ate all the cookies myself.
All by myself, I ate a mountain of cookies many times taller than me.
Yes, by myself.
The number is now at 280.
It started at 322, so I feel there is still some missing.
You know...
Now I'm satisfied.
I'll let you off with that.