Pezzy, Droid, Puffer, and Grizzy sat around the table, carving pumpkins in the dim light of the cozy room. The air smelled of autumn spices, with a soft, chilly breeze drifting through the window. As the knife scraped against the thick pumpkin flesh, the conversation began to flow—random, as usual, but oddly entertaining.

“Let’s be honest, bro,” Droid suddenly piped up, his voice cutting through the silence, “who came up with the word 'motherfucker'? What a weird word. Seriously, what a freak.”

Puffer didn’t look up from his pumpkin, deeply focused on creating a perfectly symmetrical design. "I know, right?" he muttered, his hands steady as he worked. "Like, who the hell is out there just fucking mothers?”

Droid scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, "Exactly! Why the hell would you be fucking moms?" he said, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement.

Grizzy, who had been quiet up until this point, suddenly looked up, his expression almost casual, "Why not?" he shrugged, as if the whole thing didn’t seem that weird to him.

The room fell silent for a second as the group stared at him, a mix of disbelief and laughter bubbling up at Grizzy's nonchalant answer.