...everyone Had To Eat, But Eating People

Al Was Standing A Bare Three Feet Away, His Mood Almost Jovial As He Took The Paper And It Vanished In A Wash Of Black Sparkles. “thank You, Rachel,” He Said, Carefully Reaching For My Hand As Trent Stiffened. “welcome Back, My Itchy Witch.

Shot Me Twice. I Want My Name, Or I'm Going To Start Charging You A Fee Every Time I Field Something For You. And It's Going To Be Expensive. I'm Park Place. Bud-dy." His Red, Goat-slitted Eyes Squinted At Me From Over His Smoked Glasses. "you're More Like Oriental Avenue Right Now, Dove. What Are You On?

God, It Stinks,” I Said, Hand Over My Nose As He Pulled Me Into A Long Step. Al Strode Forward, Head High. “it’s The Stench Of Bureaucracy, My Itchy-witch, And Why I Chose To Go Into Human Resources When But A Wee Lad.

Adjustment? She Called That An Adjustment? How About I Adjust Her Right Out Of Existence?

But I Knew Nick. He Was Too Ugly To Die.