Mr. Quinn woke one morning. Except, inexplicably,

He tried not to lose his footing when going down the stairs. Somehow, the ground didn't feel as solid anymore. Mr. Quinn followed the specks of starlight coming through the windows

, then saw they were his neighbors' flashlights. Everyone was scared & wondering why the cosmos was off kilter. They knew Thor was on one of his secret missions. What had he done?

"THOR! Thor. My cosmos' off kilter. Put too much citron in it?" grimaced Loki as he sipped his cocktail. Thor smiled "I tricked you trickster! It is water from the Well of Urd!"

But Loki didn't care. He was going to drink with Thor tonight and let slip the dogs of war. Where this nasty, brutish alcohol run took them was anyone's guess and he'd be

damned if he still couldn't profess his anger towards his brother for insulting his new bride, Faminola. After all, if not him, who would defend her honour?

Before he could act, Faminola stood up and drew a dagger from the garter beneath her long skirt. "Thou wish to desecrate my name, knave?" she snarled. My brother flinched.

But he flinched forward, which a wine addled Faminola saw as his taking up her challenge so she cut him across the face with the dagger. I jumped in between them, grabbed her the d

-ictionary and tried to explain sentence structure to her as she jabbed the dagger between my eyes, yelling "Death to the grammatical!", which only proved my point, if I had one.

"What's my point?" you may ask, "a dagger between my eyes or a need for closure?" but I won't delay for my point is what I lived by & here it is, right at the end of this sentence.