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Well once we start it is difficult to stop. Cream and blue a plot thickens. Miranda Cassanova kisses her heels. Although we can tell with ease the name of her future children, numerous other questions yet suggest themselves:
– To what extent does she enjoy his advances
– To what extent does she wish to employ his progeny in menial servitude for her own material gain
– To what extent is she a lover, as opposed to a fighter

These and other mysteries, we leave to the gods. Tonight the night draws near on it’s daddy longlegs legs and calls whispers vampiric in my ear blood on black.

If Toontoony was a lamp he’d be unplugged. The night descends on his forest hut and he pokes his head out the window and sees it hasn’t rained. The stars are out and realism stirs his heart to devotion.

“Clarissa, come out with me to the river, would you?” 

“bzzz,” says the fly on the kitchen table by the knife.

And off they go.

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