Der gestiefelter Slyvesterkater kam bei mir

Der gestiefelter Slyvesterkater kam bei mir am 1. Janner zu Besuch. Mit einem Blechtrommelsolo erweckte er mich aus meinem Dornrösschenschlaf. "Ein Königreich für Oropax!" rief ich

was what the note said. Geraldo was so deflated his mustache retracted to "pencil thin." This was his second vault expose, Himmler's Vault. The Al Capone vault had been a

spectacular, epic FAIL, and then Tom Selleck had won Mustache of the Year, AGAIN. Geraldo's shoulder's sank and his 'stache further deflated to nothing more than an adolescent's

peach fuzz. That his hair would fall out because of Selleck's many 'stache gave Geraldo even more reason to deflate. He thought some hair tonic might do the trick so he

rubbed some on his privates. That's the only hair that he's worried of loosing. "I'll rub that hair tonic on everything!" I heard him say. "Maybe this will help me

put the jungle in my bu--" I slammed the door shut on him. I should construct my own bathroom, which means fighting zoning laws in city hall. My roomie wanted hair down there?

The drain was always clogged as it happened. I learned plumbing, fast, or some basics of it. The humanoid janitor was growing grey fur and a tail. Time was fleeing out the windows.

Panic was real, dripping down my spine, twisting my stomach into unholy knots. My hands shook as I tried in vain to unclog the drain. Behind me, the janitor emitted a beastly growl

even with my eyes closed I felt the brightness, not as a light nor a moral prospect but as a living thing I was bereft of in my soul. I recalled how it killed me and I felt pity.