Gods and Graves

by Katie May

I draw the way I imagine a rabid monkey would if it got repeatedly poked with a stick.

I may be a womanizer, but I’m a respectful womanizer.

It’s…a bouquet. A bouquet of severed fingers, all of them contained with what appears to be a piece of intestine.

It’s…cute. She’s cute. How irritating.

Just the thought of anyone touching her makes me want to slam my fist through a face. Not that I care. She can do whatever the fuck she wants. Just as long as it doesn’t involve other men or women, obviously.

How do I tell a goddess—Hades’s wife, to be exact—to fuck off? Kindly, of course. To kindly fuck off.