John Edgerton > John's Quotes

“We Fantasy Writers are creators of worlds, dreammakers and sculptors of the imaginary, carving characters and worlds out of thought and bringing forth through the magic of illusion ... that which might be, and for 300 pages of precious time...is ... if but for those magical moments." By John Edgerton”
― John Edgerton

“Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 169

The thick, frosty rain had long since subsided. A thin, fur clad figure peered through the thick, rain soaked foliage, just outside the army's encampment. The old Wizard's raspy whisper suddenly broke the silence. He shivered against the cold and swore to himself, as no eyes peered back at him from the forest. "Damnable rabbits!" He shook both stiff, old legs from the bitter cold of the forest night and from the puddle he had been standing in.

The half-asleep guard paid no attention or tribute to the thin, fur clad bearer of wood, as he trudged through the camp's outer perimeter with a load of firewood in his arms. Slumber played a barbaric tune to the rhythms of the wind through the trees, while the army slept.

Arkin readjusted the stack of wood held precariously in his arms, as he walked through the center of camp. His steady, silent pace took him around large mud puddles and before a roaring fire built beneath a rocky shelf. The large bonfire spit colorful sparks into the blackness and the cold of the night. His thin arms let fall the wood he had gathered, while he surveyed the camp. A long, walking stick suddenly appeared in his hand, as if by magic, while his senses took in all around him.

The small, white haired Wizard leaned lazily on his heavy staff for a thoughtful moment, while his calculating eye took in the figures huddled on the ground around the small campfires.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 170

In the forest, two sets of eyes suddenly blinked their timidity at Arkin and then disappeared. "Dull witted rabbits to save a future King," he grumbled. "Will wonders never cease."

From an ancient leather pouch, old weathered hands drew a sparkling dust that seemed to be alive in its’ every glimmer. The old man watched its’ mesmerizing glow for a moment. Then, as if youth possessed his body once again, Arkin began dancing like a misguided wood nymph through the camp, sprinkling the powder on the slumbering figures. The old Wizard's ritualistic dance took him the complete circumference of the camp.

An old Wizard smiled broadly, as he danced by the giant, blond Nobleman chained helplessly to a tree. Their eyes met in an exchanged mischievous greeting.

Garish beamed his roguish smile at him, hope renewed once more. The blond, captive Nobleman had to fight back the mounting laughter in his throat, from the comforting sight of his mentor and the queer fairy dance he was performing. His gaze followed the little man's every step with pure delight.

The little Grand Master Wizard slowed his mischievous fairy dance only long enough to retrieve the glimmering Sword of Damen from the pile of weapons in the center of the camp.




Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 171

The Old Man carefully concealed the sword under his cloak and continued his fairy dance, while sprinkling the sparkling powder over the sleeping figures. Stooping low, he picked up a shield and flung it over his shoulder. Once again the old, fur clad Wizard’s movements brought him to where he had first entered the camp, through the forest. The half-asleep guard awakened faintly, to watch the little man in his queer dance, as he moved towards him. He made no effort to detain the Old One but merely stared in disbelief, as Arkin vanished into the forest once again. The guard stood dazed in disbelief at the sight and then rubbed away the sleep from his eyes, uncertain if he had been daydreaming.”
― John Edgerton, ASSASSINS OF DREAMSONGS

“Timid, dim witted eyes peer through the dark shadows of the dense forest and blinked, as the rhythm of the steady rain continued to beat down upon them, through the magic of a Grand Master Wizard. The cold mountain air breathed in wet, fresh and crisp, as the two bumblers huddled together in the forest for warmth and in wait. All within the camp seemed tranquil and calm.
Suddenly without warning, the sleeping figures began to glow with the glimmering dust the cagy, old Wizard had deposited around the slumbering camp. The glittering and glimmering powder began to spark and flit all around the army camp with the spirited life of fairy fire bees, or perhaps more to the point, tiny, tormenting furies.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 172

For that is what they quickly became, "tiny, tormenting furies"! Men awoke from the night, shrieking and screaming, as if they had been burned . . . for indeed they had! Where the sparkling dust touched, blankets caught on fire and clothes were engulfed in tiny, tormenting flames. The horizon was lit up, as all of the figures in the camp danced around in torment, against the blackness of the night. Men darted about the camp in panic and agony, screaming in supreme surprise and torment. Confused beyond belief, they ran into each other and became entangled in ridiculous heaps of flesh, cloth and hot armor. The whole army became piles of human clumps of torment, writhing on the ground.

Panic ruled the night and even the small forest creatures stopped their nightly routines, to stare at the odd sight of the ridiculous creatures; arms and legs flailing about.
Two rather comical figures strolled casually into the panic ridden encampment, whistling badly a stale, romantic tune. The two bumblers walked in slow, trembling saunters while whistling and laughing hysterically in fear. They both were as casual, as obvious trembling can allow one to be, when they approached the giant, blond Nobleman chained to the tree. The fairy fire bees bypassed the two bumblers with their tormenting magic. With stuttering steps and downcast eyes, they made their way to the tree and the man who would be King. Garish roared uncontrollably with laughter, at the sight of the writhing army and the two bumblers here for his rescue.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 173

"We've c-c-come to s-s-save you my Lord." Godfrey stammered out the words trembling, nearly swallowing his tongue. Both stiffened in absolute fear, as they watched the turmoil the Wizard had caused around them, expecting discovery at any moment!

Garish finally found his breath. "Well, let's get on with it! The furies can't last forever, although I wish they would!"

"Oh right!" Godfrey fumbled around in his clothes for the magic key Arkin had given him. "The magic key, it must be around here somewhere. Did the Old Man give the key to you Humphrey?"

"No, I thought you had it!" Humphrey scowled, already seeing his head in the guillotine.

"Well, someone's got to have it!" Garish roared.

A brawny guard in agonizing pain turned and caught sight of the fumbling escape. Screaming a battle cry, the burly guard stalked forward, to challenge them.

Garish brought the chains up around the brute's neck and crushed him against the tree, the sparkling furies making him shriek for mercy.

"Ah . . .here it is!" Godfrey exclaimed finding the magic key in his tunic. The key glowed with a golden power all its’ own, as he fished it from his pocket. His fingers trembled beyond that which he could remember, as he fitted the key into the lock. The chains quickly melted to the ground, to his delight and he laughed, as they all turned to flee.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 174

Their escape was immediately hampered by a confrontation with a huge Knight, as he rose from the ground, to challenge them. Garish buried both fists into the giant's stomach, in hammering blows and then bore his powerfully bulk up over his head.”
― John Edgerton, ASSASSINS OF DREAMSONGS

“Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 174

Their escape was immediately hampered by a confrontation with a huge Knight, as he rose from the ground, to challenge them. Garish buried both fists into the giant's stomach, in hammering blows and then bore his powerfully bulk up over his head. He quickly hurled the Knight into an onrushing mob of tormented soldiers. They all collapsed like multicolored dominoes, in a neat pile, as the three adventurers raced by.
"Come on friends and don't stumble!" Garish rushed forward, throwing a crushing blow into the face of another rising Knight. He then filled his arms with the golden Armor Of His Father, which he deposited equally into the reluctant arms of the two bumblers, so he was free to fight, to defend their escape. A swift blow to the chin of a burly, rising Knight and they were at the edge of the camp, making good their escape.
"You d-d-don't has to tell us tw-tw-twice not to stumble, oh great Lord!" Humphrey stammered, nearly dropping pieces of the golden armor. He quickly caught up with the others, in trembling, stumbling steps.
A mere shoddy group of warriors alarmed by the escape amidst the confusion, were able to arm themselves, and take up pursuit behind the escaping nobleman and his two bumbling friends. The fiery furies continued to dance around the heels and the bare legs of the pursuing Knights, as they ran in torment after them.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 175

Brawn however, was not strength enough to overcome the tiny, irritating furies that persisted in their incessant torture of the poor, pursuing, panic stricken Knights. Mammoth swords of steel did not great fly swatters make, as the Knights swung at the fiery furies in their anger, while in pursuit of the giant Nobleman and two trembling bumblers.
A frosty wind suddenly began to filter throughout the forest filled with a sparkling, rainbow energy. The currents of the wind seemed to whisper magical words from a small Wizard, hidden deep within the forest: “Danser-silvarum-shadow-ala-sancta!” Within moments, all of the dark shadows within the thick forest seemed to be doing a quaint, little fairy dance, creating a mysterious woodland, filled with darting shadows and dancing shapes. The pursuing Knights were soon filled with uncertainty of which shadows they should chase after. Panic ridden and tormented beyond their endurance, the trail was soon left forgotten by them! The tortured group of tattered warriors instead turned towards the river, like deserting mice. All too eagerly, they plunged into its’ welcome freezing depths; the only real escape from the torment of the relentless “fairy fire bees”. They were soon joined by a host of other warriors, seeking a release from the torment of a Wizard’s vengeful magical touch.
Garish's flying feet left deep impressions in the soft, moist forest earth as he ran.
Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 176

The blond Nobleman’s fluid muscles were alive with the act of escape and revitalized at the promise of an extended life. He slowed his pace for a moment and sucked in the frosty night air, waiting for the others to catch up.
Humphrey and Godfrey soon collapsed together in an exhausted pile at his feet, panting and wheezing. "Well, we have made good our escape!" Godfrey gasped.
"Oh Master, I hope so!" Humphrey whimpered. "I couldn't stagger another struggling step, unless of course we must! Oh, my aching corns and throbbing feet!"
A soft voice whispered from somewhere in the trees,
“Perhaps that would be a blessing for us all if you didn't." Arkin's voice was like a beautiful melody to their ears.
A broad, mischievous smile crept over the face of the tall Nobleman. He again looked into the eyes of the man who had been like a father to him, as well as a friend.
Arkin stood, poised like an ancient forgotten statue on a limb of a giant tree, a golden aura surrounding him, to keep out the cold.”
― John Edgerton, ASSASSINS OF DREAMSONGS

“Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 174

He quickly hurled the Knight into an onrushing mob of tormented soldiers. They all collapsed like multicolored dominoes, in a neat pile, as the three adventurers raced by.

"Come on friends and don't stumble!" Garish rushed forward, throwing a crushing blow into the face of another rising Knight. He then filled his arms with the golden Armor Of His Father, which he deposited equally into the reluctant arms of the two bumblers, so he was free to fight, to defend their escape. A swift blow to the chin of a burly, rising Knight and they were at the edge of the camp, making good their escape.

"You d-d-don't has to tell us tw-tw-twice not to stumble, oh great Lord!" Humphrey stammered, nearly dropping pieces of the golden armor. He quickly caught up with the others, in trembling, stumbling steps.
A mere shoddy group of warriors alarmed by the escape amidst the confusion, were able to arm themselves, and take up pursuit behind the escaping nobleman and his two bumbling friends. The fiery furies continued to dance around the heels and the bare legs of the pursuing Knights, as they ran in torment after them.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 175

Brawn however, was not strength enough to overcome the tiny, irritating furies that persisted in their incessant torture of the poor, pursuing, panic stricken Knights. Mammoth swords of steel did not great fly swatters make, as the Knights swung at the fiery furies in their anger, while in pursuit of the giant Nobleman and two trembling bumblers.

A frosty wind suddenly began to filter throughout the forest filled with a sparkling, rainbow energy. The currents of the wind seemed to whisper magical words from a small Wizard, hidden deep within the forest: “Danser-silvarum-shadow-ala-sancta!” Within moments, all of the dark shadows within the thick forest seemed to be doing a quaint, little fairy dance, creating a mysterious woodland, filled with darting shadows and dancing shapes. The pursuing Knights were soon filled with uncertainty of which shadows they should chase after. Panic ridden and tormented beyond their endurance, the trail was soon left forgotten by them! The tortured group of tattered warriors instead turned towards the river, like deserting mice. All too eagerly, they plunged into its’ welcome freezing depths; the only real escape from the torment of the relentless “fairy fire bees”. They were soon joined by a host of other warriors, seeking a release from the torment of a Wizard’s vengeful magical touch.

Garish's flying feet left deep impressions in the soft, moist forest earth as he ran.

Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 176

The blond Nobleman’s fluid muscles were alive with the act of escape and revitalized at the promise of an extended life. He slowed his pace for a moment and sucked in the frosty night air, waiting for the others to catch up.
Humphrey and Godfrey soon collapsed together in an exhausted pile at his feet, panting and wheezing. "Well, we have made good our escape!" Godfrey gasped.

"Oh Master, I hope so!" Humphrey whimpered. "I couldn't stagger another struggling step, unless of course we must! Oh, my aching corns and throbbing feet!"

A soft voice whispered from somewhere in the trees, “Perhaps that would be a blessing for us all if you didn't." Arkin's voice was like a beautiful melody to their ears.

A broad, mischievous smile crept over the face of the tall Nobleman. He again looked into the eyes of the man who had been like a father to him, as well as a friend.

Arkin stood, poised like an ancient forgotten statue on a limb of a giant tree, a golden aura surrounding him, to keep out the cold.”
― John Edgerton

“Blessings indeed, Old One!" Garish's roguish smile spread warmly. "I've never enjoyed an adventure more! Are you sure you weren't born a wood nymph? That fairy steps seemed to come quite naturally to you!"
"Yes and I think the soldiers are still running Master, while being tormented by your tiny furies!" Godfrey smiled.
Edgerton/Assassins of Dreamsongs 177

He sought his best beggar’s smile, trying to suck up to him, as he had seen many village parasites do.
"I have no doubt!" Arkin levitated softly down to the ground, beside them. The small, white bearded Wizard once again planted his staff and it quickly turned into a wooden walking stick, the glow fading around him. "Tis a chilly night, for a fairy dance! But it was a good one!"
"Aye! But a fortunate one for me!" Garish patted him on the shoulder. The old, white haired Wizard swept aside the large limb of a tree, to reveal the Sword of Damen and a shield.
Humphrey began to giggle and looked at Godfrey. "I knew we could do it! I just knew it!"
"I had no doubt," Godfrey grinned back at him, "they were most fortunate to have us along."
Arkin growled at them, remembering his dip in the river. Then he smiled at them, making them both cower. "You've done well beggars, better than I thought you would, I must admit!"
Godfrey giggled with delight but Humphrey merely stared back at him, waiting for another magical spell to be thrown or another painful shoe to drop. Once again he saw himself as a mouse, scampering the cliffs that were much too big for him.
"Thank you my friends." Garish laughed, donning his armor. Then he ruffled their hair, as he might have a pet dog, breaking the daze Humphrey was in.”
― John Edgerton, ASSASSINS OF DREAMSONGS

“J. Edgerton/ The Spirit of Christmas Page 11

Mr. Angel smiled warmly at the vision of the two boys playing in the snow. “All God’s

creatures . . . one and all . . . large and small! But some more important than others, in their

magnificence. And I’ve found you both . . . at last”.

Jonas took off racing through the snow, the cup in his hand. “Come on James!”

James scrambled after him, the snow crunching pleasantly beneath his tiny feet. “Jonas

wait for me!”

The taller Nicholas stopped before a Cinder Vendor. “Two warm Ciders please, with

extra spices.”

The Cider Vendor raised an eyebrow as he took in the smudged face of the boy and

his shabby clothes. “Very well, young Sir. Have you money? I’m not a charity you know!”

Jonas quickly fished out coins and showed him the silver. “Oh yes Sir. I know of charities

Sir and you’re better off not being one. They’re a cheat!”

The Cider Vendor began filling two cups with steaming apple cider. The sweet smell of it

made the boy’s mouth water. The burly Cider Vendor handed him the first cup of sweet,

steaming, mouth puckering cider. “Many are, young master!”

He replied. “I grew up in the system meself and it was a poor boy’s torment. That’ll be 2 cents!”

The littlest Nicholas raced up and slid to a halt in the snow beside him.

Jonas handed James the cup of cider. Then he paid the vendor with coins from the tin

cup. “That’s highway robbery . . . but very well!”

The Cider Vendor squinted through one eye, his thick eyebrow nearly obscuring it. “It’s

very good cider, with extra spices.”

James face lit up with joy as he took a sip. “M-mmm! It is good cider!


J. Edgerton/ The Spirit of Christmas Page 12


The Vendor handed Jonas the second cup of steaming cider. “I’ve not had any

complaints. I work hard to make my cider. It’s worth the money.”

His lips smacking, Jonas sipped in the warm cider. “I’m sure it is Sir.”

The angelic faced little one smiled up at him. “It’s yummy!”

The Cider Vendor smiled down at him and tipped his hat to him “Yes it tis! Yummy!”

Then he chuckled cheerfully with another satisfied customer, no matter how small.

“Ummm, good!” Jonas agreed with them.

The Cider Vendor took a sip of his own brew himself, his mouth puckering. “It’ll put the

spirit of life back in you on a cold day like this, that Cider.”

Two men in tall top hats and fine suits halted in front of the Cider Vendor. “Sir, we are

collecting for the poor and wondered if a fine fellow such as yourself might have something to

contribute.”

Jonas glanced up at them in a wizened way. “We’ve a couple coins to contribute but it

better get to the poor, understand?”

“Of course, my fine fellow! “The taller of the two sharply dressed gentlemen spoke.

Smiling a satisfied smile, Jonas dropped two silver coins into the gentleman’s hands.

The tall gentleman took them and tipped his hat, smiling down at them both. “Very

generous!” He glanced stone faced at the vendor, who immediately forked over several dollars.

“A very Merry Christmas to you both!” They trod off through the snow in their finery, to the

welcome crunch of the snow drifts beneath their feet.

Mr. Angel paused at the Cheese vendor next to them, where a raggedy young girl was

staring wide eyed at the rows and rows of cheeses above her.”
― John Edgerton, The Spirit of Christmas

“The two young boys raced along the sidewalk, twisting their way between passers-by, their eyes frantically glancing behind them at the large pursuing policeman.

Suddenly Mr. Thorn, a large, burley man dressed in black blocked their way and took them both by the collars. “So there you are!” He snatched the apple quickly from James’ hand.

“What have we here?” He was about to take a bite of it, when he saw the officer racing towards them. “It’s all right officer. I have the young scoundrels and I’ll make full restitutions for their thievery.” He quickly fished coins from his pocket and with a conning smile, put them in
the hand of the frowning Policeman. “And a little extra for your trouble, my good man. It’s such a small crime and the criminals so . . . minor.”

The burly policeman rocked back and forth considering and then grunted, after all it was Christmas. “Very well sir. I’ll give these to the Vendor but I catch either of you snatching again, it’s behind bars with you and a good strong workhouse. You got me!”

Jonas glanced down at his worn out boots, his face red with shame. “Oh yes sir.”

James followed suit and then glanced up into the gruff face of the law. “Sorry, we were just hungry!”

Mr. Thorn smiled and tipped his hat to the Policeman, who shaking his head, sauntered away. Immediately Mr. Thorn slapped Jonas hard across the face, drawing blood from his nose and then smacked James on the head, crushing his cap. He snatched the apple from James’ hand and pocketed them both. “So here you two no-accounts are? I’ve been searching high and wide for the lot of you. I left you at this corner and I expected to find you right where I left ya!”

He then snatched the cup from Jonas’ hand with a scowl. He poured the coins into his hand and his greedy eyes took in the meager profits.

Jonas immediately stammered justification for their absence. “We-we found a better corner to beg at, Mr. Thorn. I think we done all right.”

Mr. Thorn cleared his throat considering and then his boisterous laughter echoed.

He put his big arms around the two young lads. “Well, you done fine for us boys! We needs the money! We’ll have to have you two young Sirs representing our fine establishment again tomorrow, I do believe.” He chuckled cruelly.
“We’ve great charity in our hearts for you kiddies but a soulful heart won’t put bread and molasses on the table.” He greedily poured the coins into his coat pocket.

Both lads coughed mischievously at mention of such charitable actions.

Thorn eyed them both to see if they are making fun of him, which they were.

Jonas cleared his throat. “A bit of a tickle.”

Thorn growled and gruffly took hold of the boy’s arm. “I’d tickle you both with a whip if I thought you was funning with me! Now boys, you’ve roughed my gentle nature. You know
that I has nothing but love for the lot of you. My big heart swells at the sight of each and every one of you little bastards . . . I mean kiddies. Shall we on home?”

“Here Jamey lad, you hold the cup. Give us a song the two of you, to beg alms by. I think I’m in the mood for “Oh Come All Ye Faithful”, but make it sweet or there’s a lashing for the both of ya!”

Jonas and James exchanged tortured looks. Together the young Nicholas boys sweetly began to sing the song, as they moved through the crowd.

The Tall Toymaker followed them down the sidewalk, trying not to be observed by Thorn. ”And a villain enters the scene, an ugly villain at that!”
― John Edgerton, The Spirit of Christmas

“J. Edgerton/ The Spirit of Christmas Page 17 Continued

JONAS AND JAMES (SINGING)
“O come all ye faithful. Joyful and triumphant. O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem.

Come and behold him. Born the king of angels. O come let us adore him.

O come let us adore him. O come let us adore him. Christ the lord.”

“Sing, choirs of angels, Sing in exultations. Sing, all ye citizens of heavn above;

Glory to god, Glory in the highest. O come let us adore him.

O come let us adore him. O come let us adore him, Christ the lord!”

An occasional passer-by dropped a coin into the cup held by the littlest Nicholas.

Thorn tipped his hat to them, trying to keep his greedy looks to a minimum. “Sing loudly my little scalawags. We’ve only a few blocks to go of skullduggery. Then you’ll have hot potato soup before a warm fire.”

The Nicholas boys sang louder as they shivered from the falling snow and the wind that seemed to cut right through their shabby clothes, to their very souls.

A wicked smile spread over the face of the villainous Mr. Thorn, as he heard the clink of a coin topple into the cup. “That’s it little alley muffins, shiver more it’s good for business.” His evil chuckle automatically followed and he had to stifle it.

They trudged on, a few coins added to the coffer from smiling patrons.

J. Edgerton/ The Spirit of Christmas Page 18


Mr. Angel continued to follow them unobserved, darting into a doorway as Mr. Thorn glanced slyly behind him, like a common criminal but there was nothing common about him.

They paused before the Gotham Orphanage that rose up with its cold stone presence and

its’ weathered sign. Thorn’s deep voice echoed as ominous as the sight before them, “Gotham

Orphanage, home sweet home! A shelter for wayward boys and girls and a nest to us all!” He

slyly drew a coin from his pocket, and twirled it through his fingers. Weather faced Thorn

then bit down on the rusty coin, to make sure that it was real. He then deposited all of the coin

into the inner pocket of his coat, with an evil chuckle.

IV. “GOTHAM ORPHANAGE”

“Now never you mind about the goings on of my business. You just mind your own. Now off with ya. Get into the hall to prepare for dinner, such as it is,” Thorn’s words echoed behind them. “And not a word to anyone of my business or you’ll see the back of me hand.” He pushed the boy toward the dingy stone building that was their torment and their shelter.

The tall Toymaker glanced after them and then trod cautiously towards Gotham
Orphanage.

Jonas and James paced along the cracked stone pathway and up the front steps of the main entryway, that towered in cold stone before them.

Thorn ushered the boys through the weathered front door to Gotham’s Orphanage.

Mr. Angel paced after them and paused, unobserved, near the entrance.

As they trudged across the worn hard wood floors of Gotham Orphanage, gala Irish music was heard coming from the main hall of building. Thorn herded the boys into the main hall of the orphanage that was filled with every size and make of both orphan boys and girls seated quietly at tables, eating their dinner. Then he turned with an evil look and hurriedly headed down the long hallway with the money they’ve earned.

Jonas and James paced hungrily through the main hall, before a long table with a large, black kettle on top of it and loaves of different types of bread. They both glanced back at a small
makeshift stage where orphans in shabby clothes sat stone faced with instruments, playing an Irish Christmas Ballad. Occasionally a sour note was heard. At a far table sat Men and Women
of the Community who had come to have dinner and support the orphanage. In front of them was a small, black kettle with a sign that said “Donations”.”
― John Edgerton, The Spirit of Christmas

“J. Edgerton/ The Spirit of Christmas Page 20


Behind the long serving table, scowling at The Nicholas boys was Mrs. Thorn, a large, hard faced woman dressed in gray with a face that resembled that of a hawk. “There are my little half-frozen beggars. I’ve hot soup waiting to warm your half frozen innards.” Her smile was half warm, half hawk and half dead. “Well, where is my Coffer of coins? Have you made us a small
fortune with your warm smiles and pleasant manners, the way that I taught ya? You best have done well, if you expect to eat tonight!”
― John Edgerton, The Spirit of Christmas