"I think I picked up Albus Dumbledore at

"I think I picked up Albus Dumbledore at the bar last night" exclaimed Frank out of the blue. "He showed me some pretty naughty wand tricks and kept refilling my drinks for free."

Then we blacked out. Dumbledore and I woke up in Argentina in a room full of naked women and honey mustard. He was trying to recreate the last supper with these strippers and

then have communion. Again, I wished I spoke Spanish. I also wish I had brought my spatula. Oh well. Dumbledore and I enjoyed the women and then hitched back to Portugal where

We knew we could get the better-quality ladies. At least, that's what i heard. But then again it was in Spanglish and only Dumbledore fully understood what the pimp said. And lube

Sitting down in front of a bar, he screwed the pipes he salvaged from the buildings demolished for the red line into a grand organ & played Tocata and Fugue in D minor by J.S.Bach.

As my mind rode the Fugue to the hidden Fold, my fingers kept caressing the piano's keys. It was all muscle memory, every note building on the remains of the previous note. There

was a loud clang as the cover fell on my fingers, severing two of them. "I could tell you weren't really in the moment," the piano complained, "Where is your spontaneity?"

"I don't know," I responded with a snarky tone. "I kept all of my spontaneity in my right pinky finger, which you have just forcefully removed from my hand." The piano chuckled.

“You’ll have a hard time with octaves!” “YOU’LL have a hard time, PERIOD!” I yelled. I doused the piano with petrol and lit it aflame. The keys played “My Old Flame” as it burned.