It was almost finished. The pastry was golden

It was almost finished. The pastry was golden in the oven, ballooning into the most delicious raspberry tart the world had ever seen. That's when it went wrong.

A gummi bear jumped out and started to dance around. Laughing a sinister laugh.

hee hee hee ( is that evil enough...) anyway he was there all right, and he was scary (well not at first... like at all) but when i was laughing he obviously didn't like it

& transformed into a giant hairy radioactive tarrantula & stung me repeatedly with this fangs. I turned into a sort of spiderwoman, but without the webbing and quite hairy

in places that secretly gave me pleasure. I made a mental note to later explore this new terrain as the paralyzing pain coursed through me. Funny how the mind races in moments of

areas from the areas that still lived in anarchy. It was a good service for travelers, but honestly, I thought it was a little mean to the poor little

Buggers who couldn't pay the luggage fees. They found some other means of transportation. Or they walked all the way home. Anarchy spread so rapidly that the deaf poets heard it.

It sounded like madness, like freedom, like birth and death intertwined. Actually, it sounded like luggage wheels on bumpy pavement, but the deaf poets made it seem like music.

I'd paid 9 dollars to see this show and off beat and squeaky as it was. I could feel the hearts of all the deaf poets bleeding out before me. I wept for the sheer raw beauty of it.