![]() ![]() ![]() The same part of you mortals that dreads the dark. In truth, I think it speaks to something primal in you. There’s a sweetness to it, creeping down your throat and rolling your belly like a butter churn. It takes a turn or two to really warm up, but once the gala gets into full swing, it’s one not soon forgot.īefore the skin starts to black and the eyes turn to white and the belly bloats like some horrid balloon, it begins. ![]() I speak of the eye-watering perfume of simple mortality. But I don’t mean the pedestrian stink of shit, gentlefriends. O, chances are good if you don’t soil your britches before you die, you’ll soil them soon afterward-your human bodies simply work that way, I’m afraid. It takes a while for them to really start reeking. ![]()
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