alone
Tumbling through the tumultuous patches of the Continuity: dissolutions, land mines, kitten sacrifice. A well dressed photo negative of our greatest horrors and ecstasies. It leaves ones' face slack, eyes too steady, laugh too maniacal...
Still, epic patterns of collected stardust aid the compulsion to keep poachers bayed, intubate last gasps of the desperate humanity alarm clock...bellow fading ember. A clit, honey tunnel, ovaries, and sucklers. I heard Him tell the reasoning behind the clitoris, it's the best joke in the universe.
All binary reproductive sentient organisms sell sex, humans exclusively stigmatize the commerce.
Stripper interaction can be the most honest and linear exchange man and woman execute. An independent contractor, her success is exclusively dependent on customer service.
lawyers...bone sawyers...used car salesmen...repellent yet employed. sales, jiujitsu, empath, provocateur, tna, gymnast...selling pussy is easy, the illusion takes a matador.
Strippers and strigoi are peas and carrots. Most won't tell anyone who cares when he goes. Strigoi live by getting close. Can't be anybody; unemployed, no nuclear family, broken mean cuss'. reported after skipping rent and parole appointments.
Graymalkin recognized the pattern in missing person reports 2.5 seconds after their 23ish feed and warms the G6.
starts with one dancer, crushed by nauseating history, hellish current, and future best avoided. plodding along on speedballs and oxys. C day squad, scuzzy club cooch shaking a reprieve.
nights turning rancid tricks (nqns) on an avocado couch,
stained cum (and her occasional shameful arousal) crusty paisley.
doesn't clean up before tieing off, shoots up, rolls over, and he is there, soft shoeing on the coffee table. Ba‘al Azabab, Abaddon, The Light Bringer...with a Promise.
Successful nests stink for miles, polluting the ether-mana-fey whathaveyou, puss soaked maggots ecstatic in Gaia's cunt. most animals know to not shit-eat-breed in the same place. parking lot cameras see Pedro, Jill, and I coming.
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| Pedros' of a comet crashing near a duergar raiding camp, dwoemer runes etched by the basest metal weavers |
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| Jills' spitting Ares Dynamics .223 HR (His Righteousness) rounds, but she's cheap and disposable |
Jill's muzzlebrake strobes ankh as a "bouncer" looms, yellow talons ponderously swirling air Weirding Way vacated. HR glints punching center mass, falling to its knees Pedro takes the head.
A cannibalistic lair, getting sloppy, dripping corruption from a vulture's wound, incapable of the genus' temperamental vanity. feeding inward, too few, one over the door, the bouncer, a couple ghastly thralls run through and whipped apart. Jill's beta mag only a third empty, Pedro grumbles in hunger.
queen?
flex the sensors, spectrum strobe.
porcelain and patten leather rhythmically languidly spiraling out of the lee of radiation, near the ceiling above stage 3. Vagina Dentata slimes the pole, drooling at my pheromones, silver ziggurat teeth sparking on the brass. Too perfect.
haven't the patience for this leprotic weasel's spectacle, my gift flays the glammer. self consciousness skitters through her used up visage, as we both know we could have avoided this bog of circumstance.
she tucks into the pole, swimming wall start, flinging the rotten honey pot up over end into the direction of Jill's grenade. aluminum encased Boson antimatter easily compromised by knashing rage. Purest of Lights transfixing from coxcyx to cervical curve, incandescent. the first honest white toothy grin since the start of the Bad Nights cast in rictus...pixelated to ash.
...
some when, on knees and hands, tattered, cold, stained in evidence of various lives. lamenting odds that are the last sick joke I'll know. out of reasons and honor to raise the brow...
a memory
the last smile of a burning stripper will save the universes.
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