Are you sitting comfortably?
Egg and Soup were best of friends.
They lived in a big old house on the top of a hill.
"Let's go out and play," said Soup.
"Yes, let's!" said Egg, as he hurried out of the door and rolled down the hill to the playground.
Soup went sqwekk sqwekk sqwekk behind him.
At the playground, Egg noted Soup's proximity to a Cthuhloid entity. "He looks like a puddle of sick," thought Egg. "It must be Abhoth, lord of scummy filth. Why isn't he in the Whitehouse?"
Egg sat in a swing and laughed in a gay and inane manner as he swung back and forth, imagining he was carving lesser beings beneath his death-pendulum.
Soup was sad. He could not sit on the swings because he dribbled through the holes. "Oh custard!" he said. Soup secretly thought that Egg was too round; and plotted his imminent demise on the roundabout. It was only for fun though, because Soup was too congealed to harbour homicidal tendencies for long.
"Oh, look!" cried Egg, pointing to the dead cat in the ditch.
"Hm, squelchy-mew," commented Soup as he ran down the slide in a disturbing manner. "Heehee."
By Sea_cucumber and Wraithwitch
PS - if Ross or anyone else who's suitably knowledgeable on such subjects could hazzard a guess as to which Lovecraftian horror Charlotte was referring to when she said it 'looked like a puddle of sick', I'd be grateful. Edit: Abhoth! of course!
In other news, my life isn't bad at all really; other than having fekk all money the world according to Raven is quite shiney.
Charlotte came to visit and gifted Seraphim with some leather of purest green. We ate random munchy food and made up disturbing children's stories.
Today I do sewing and print design.
Tomorrow I work.
Thursday I scamper around london.
Friday is more sewing and print work.
Lalala.
They lived in a big old house on the top of a hill.
"Let's go out and play," said Soup.
"Yes, let's!" said Egg, as he hurried out of the door and rolled down the hill to the playground.
Soup went sqwekk sqwekk sqwekk behind him.
At the playground, Egg noted Soup's proximity to a Cthuhloid entity. "He looks like a puddle of sick," thought Egg. "It must be Abhoth, lord of scummy filth. Why isn't he in the Whitehouse?"
Egg sat in a swing and laughed in a gay and inane manner as he swung back and forth, imagining he was carving lesser beings beneath his death-pendulum.
Soup was sad. He could not sit on the swings because he dribbled through the holes. "Oh custard!" he said. Soup secretly thought that Egg was too round; and plotted his imminent demise on the roundabout. It was only for fun though, because Soup was too congealed to harbour homicidal tendencies for long.
"Oh, look!" cried Egg, pointing to the dead cat in the ditch.
"Hm, squelchy-mew," commented Soup as he ran down the slide in a disturbing manner. "Heehee."
By Sea_cucumber and Wraithwitch
PS - if Ross or anyone else who's suitably knowledgeable on such subjects could hazzard a guess as to which Lovecraftian horror Charlotte was referring to when she said it 'looked like a puddle of sick', I'd be grateful. Edit: Abhoth! of course!
In other news, my life isn't bad at all really; other than having fekk all money the world according to Raven is quite shiney.
Charlotte came to visit and gifted Seraphim with some leather of purest green. We ate random munchy food and made up disturbing children's stories.
Today I do sewing and print design.
Tomorrow I work.
Thursday I scamper around london.
Friday is more sewing and print work.
Lalala.