He was sweating again. It happened all the

He was sweating again. It happened all the time now. Every time he used his Power, it poured off his forehead and down his nose, dripping onto her face. "Why'd you name it 'Power'?

she asked. He just shrugged. Why had he named it 'Power'? The story was too long to be told here, particularly under the barrage of poison-tipped arrows that were

controlled by the "mind ropes" of Mage Gluthorshaven he had needed "Power." He'd discovered it after the quest for the golden blood in the den of Trayfrustton, underneath the robe

of Odorous Suffering - where he had developed a skin rash due to a sensitivity to stick deodorants. This meant he was now

using that weird crystal, natural stuff. He often felt his aura cleaned at the same time. His psychoastrologist said the same. "Whatever you've done has had a great effect on your

really feeling myself change, these self help hypnosis tapes were working. I decide to write a letter to the publisher. "Dear sirs: The self help tapes by Hannibal Lecter

contain some excellent recipes, but can I please query the one for Ears Fried In Wax on tape 3? Do the ears have to be fresh or would ones from a dead hobo be OK?" They replied

"Your enquires on the audio version of Betty Crocker's 'How to Serve Man on a Budget' has been sent to the appropriate representatives. Please wait two weeks for reply." He sighed,

wondering how he was ever going to learn to take care of his family while remaining willfully illiterate. It was then that he decided to fight for the rights of the illiterate.