Shadow Milk Cookie never once said he was good at being entertaining; he just likes to do it. Putting on shows across Earthbread—well, back in the day, when he wasn't a feared beast. He'd always had a penchant for entertainment. Shadow Milk liked it whether it be singing, dancing, or his favorite, putting on theater shows.

His new favorite toy... did not partake in such joys. No. This 'Truthless Recluse' (as he calls himself) was quite the bore. He didn't smile. He didn't laugh. He just stared, as if the whole world was sooooo boring! Ugh! It grinded Shadow Milk's gears. Truthless Recluse merely stared into space at Shadow Milk's every puppet show. He didn't even laugh at JOKES. Shadow Milk, the cookie who says he is not too good at entertaining, is appalled. His whole ego is wounded.

"Ahem. My dear Truthless Recluse, why don't you participate in this section of the play?" Shadow Milk asked, his voice dripping with faux kindness. His expression was one of a sneer. As if he were daring Truthless Recluse to try and deny this. Shadow Milk had a whole horde of minions to set amok on Truthless Recluse's frail form. "C'mon! I even made my own very special puppet for you! Doesn't it resemble you?" Shadow Milk crooned, holding the puppet up to Truthless Recluse.

The other cookie didn't even FLINCH. Shadow Milk scoffed. He had put hours into that puppet, yet he's being treated as if he made an abomination, instead of a beautiful creation—one that's made with Shadow Milk's twisted sense of love. "Y'know... if you keep this silence up... I might really make you a puppet, my dearest..." he whispered, as his expression grew dark. Shadow Milk smiled, a creepy one, knowing that he did mean that threat.