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"In addition to your terminal illness, you

  • "In addition to your terminal illness, you have a corneal ulcer," said the goat-horned doctor. "So, avoid light, including THE Light. Why not enjoy a darker afterlife alternative?"
  • I'd always enjoyed the midnight hours & accented. The goat-horned MD explained that when I died I would see a light at the end of a tunnel. I should take a sharp left at the
  • end, lest I fall sharply into the abyss below. The drop is very sudden and steep. I was surprised and at the same time highly suspicious of the horned physician's motives.
  • "Trust me," whispered the horned doctor, his hooded obsidian eyes glinting in the darkness."Jump." I understood then that I had no choice. I turned & leaped into the abyss, falling
  • and flailing, screaming, then ... flying. The abyss had no bottom. The particles of my being sparkled like a crust on my true form. The hornèd doctor was right, I thought, as I fl
  • ew down towards nothing. Flashy magic always goes wrong. If I wanted to fly I could have used an old fashioned broom or a pair of Angel wings. Unprepared flying always leaves me na
  • usiated. As part of Witch Inc. R&D, we had a devil of a time with the magic carpets. The slightest breeze and they would flip over. We tried ruby slippers, but teleportation is
  • for dummies and drunks. I scanported my DNA to the Ghost Galaxy. The dimensions there are warbled by the fiendish solar winds so that everything is see through. Perhaps here I coul
  • d finish my ST:TNG fan-fic collection, inspired by the solar winds and the ghosts of ancient aliens. To date, it ran over 18000 pages, with particular emphasis on Commander Ryker's
  • facial hair: the configuration of. My fan fictional effluent stream flows into every corner of the www. Today I received an email to say the votes were in & I'd won the internet.

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