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"Your tort Sir." He slammed it down on the next table. The empty one. "I ordered a tart and before you ask, not a sweetbread of any type. Have her bathed and bring her to me here."

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Forbidden Fruit? Nope, too erotic. Victor's Closet? Nope, too ominous. I do like where your going with it though. Get back to me with a better name though. Legal will need to see

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listen to FM 104 The Riot. The only place to buggout the summer of 2020 while you work from home and shelter in place. If I were a snake, I could dupe women in gardens into eating

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They envied me that, I suppose. It had its pleasures but the pains outweighed them by far. I was hardly in a better position than them. Yet, I wouldn't want to go back among them.

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I was saved from the mutilations by virtue of having been born with them already. I was the last of my father's experiments. The last living one at any rate. My undead brothers & s

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They wouldn't call it addiction back then. A fetish maybe. A glamouring a gloom gloomy solemn golem going to the land of Goshen upon the occasion of his female genital mutation.

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A whole cohort of ahorsed knights were hardly ever quiet. A small spell of concealment helped even more. But the sound of a sneeze is universal. Sir Robin & his damned snuffbox!

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Ready the fighters. That much brass coming out of the command tent like that could only mean one thing. So much for getting any sleep. Sure enough, bugles started blowing a muster.

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Assuming the position also freed me from having to establish it. Wherein lies its weakness. We're leaving it to some numinous Other to set our foundations. We're cutting corners al

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Neologisms. That was another one I was prone to. Softly, though. "Assume the position." And I always did. As if I could imagine velocity alone. What mattered mattered with density.