Evie Wanted To Cry. From Fear. From

Careful There, Poet. I Might Start To Believe You.

I Hate This Place,” Tiara Whimpered. “it’s Super Creepy. Like A Haunted Chuck E. Cheese’s Where The Games All Want To Kill You And You Never Get Your Pizza.

There Were Few Things Worse Than Being Ordinary, In Evie’s Opinion. Ordinary Was For Suckers.

With Each Shimmy, The Bugle Beads On Their Scandalously Revealing Costumes Swung And Shook. It Was The Sort Of Display Evie Knew Her Mother Would Have Found Appalling—an Example Of The Moral Decay Of The Young Generation. It Was Sexual And Dangerous And Thrilling, And Evie Wanted More Of It.

The Vicar, Whose Name Is Reverend Waite, Leads Us In Prayers That All Begin With 'o Lord' And End With Our Somehow Not Being Worthy-sinners Who Have Always Been Sinners And Will Forever More Be Sinners Until We Die. It Isn't The Most Optimistic Outlook I've Ever Heard But We're Encouraged To Keep Trying Anyway.