Moses Should Have Said "let My People

She Knew It Should Bother Her More, Being Evil And All, But After She Put On A Little Mascara And Some Lipstick And Poured Herself Another Cup Of Blood-laced Coffee, She Found That She Was Okay With It.

It Was Watching Madeline Alby Eat Cheese With Every Ounce Of Her Being, Like It Was The First And Best Time, That Made Him Realize That He Had Never Really Tasted Cheese, Or Crackers, Or Life. And He Didn't Want His Daughter To Live That Way. He'd Moved Her Into Her Own Room The Night Before...he Hadn't Slept Well, And Had Gotten Up Five Times During The Night To Check On Her, Only To Find Her Sleeping Peacefully, But He Could Lose A Little Sleep If Sophie Could Go Through Life Without His Fears And Limitations. He Wanted Her To Experience All The Glorious Cheese Of Life.

It Was An Eight-harlot Inn, If That's How You Measure An Inn. (i Understand That Now They Measure Inns In Stars. We Are In A Four-star Inn Right Now. I Don't Know What The Conversion From Harlots To Stars Is.)

And He Was Like "the Sedative In The Blood, Blah, Blah, Four Hours, Blah, Blah, Nerdspeak, Geektalk -" -abby

The Gourney, The Big File Drawers Of The Dead, The Instruments Of Dissection - This Sure Looked Like The Morgues In The Movies. Something Had Gone Seriously Wrong While She Slept.