The farming of a gimp, like planting trees, —
City Farm
“That man is a true fucking poet,” said Lady Valerie vey fiercely, “I will not hear it gainsaid. I epslootly fucking have to meet him.” —
Lady Valerie Inhali
“They’re all at it,” said Slime despairingly, “coming down into the valley, snatching innocent people off the streets, keeping them in those horrid, slimy sheds for weeks on end. Those poor devils, they must suffer unspeakably,” he added, tapping hitherto unsuspected sources of empathy. —
Lord Snatch
“Onanisticles ver scagsmiff,” burped a species of howler monkey, “cookin’ up innit.” —
The species of howler monkey
Vey soon, Slime reappeared in the doorway with that other aficionado of junior portions, Sleaze. —
Sleaze
