The poodle-shaped cell phone yappity-yap-yapped.
Miss Snark checked the number — bliss! — and kicked off her stilettoes. "Snookums?"
"Ooky-pooky-wookums," replied Evil, his voice a mixture of honey and moisturising cream for rich elderly ladies.
"So where are you taking me tonight, Big Boy?"
A pause. Pregnant. 8 months. Complications. Quads. Elephants. Straining to trumpet for their lives. Their trunks lashed together by rope. Their Never Forget bodies inflating rapidly like impossible bellows re...
Published on February 14, 2010 07:10