I Sighed. "and What Am I To

But A Slow, Deeply Satisfied Smile Came Over Him, And His Breath Quickened. 'so Softly It Starts,' He Whispered. 'foolishly Clever And With An Unsurvivable Trust. It Just Saved Your Miserable Life, That Questionable Show Of Thought, My Itchy-witch.' Al’s Smile Shifted, Becoming Lighter. 'and Now You Will Live To Possibly Regret It.

I Smell Pancakes," Al Said As He Jauntily Smacked Pierce's Hat Back On The Witch's Head. "did The Runt Make You Breakfast?" Al Said, Leaning Over The Stove. "quickest Way To A Woman's Crotch Is Through Her Gullet, Eh?" He Said, Leering At Pierce, Who Was Now Rinsing Out The Percolator. "is It Working? I'd Be Curious To Know. I'd Buy Her A Cake Or Something.

I Wish I Could Say I Write 9-5. It's Usually More Like 8-6, Every Day But The Weekends.

He Didn't Want Lucy To Grow Up Feeling Alone, Surrounded By Everything And Having Nothing.

Have You Been Sniffing Fairy Farts?