Lord Snatch found that, try as he might, there was nothing he could do to prevent the onset of consciousness. —
Lord Snatch
“Good Heavens, Valerie!” exclaimed Lord Snatch, “how ever did you escape the clutches of the gimp hunters? And what on earth are you doing demeaning yourself in that disgusting onesie? You are making a spectacle of yourself in front of plebeians.” —
Lady Valerie Inhali
“It’s been a bit of a fucking blur to be honest,” said Valerie, “I think I may have been rescued by some oiks. How I fetched up here, God knows. Anyway, you can’t talk. You’re still wearing that beastly horse head, and all the proles can see your botbot.” —
horse head
“I have reached,” said Lord Snatch, “the determination that we are in zoological gardens. Indeed, I have a sort of presentiment from my childhood of a granite-jawed old carpet-muncher - Nanny Braddock, if my memory serves me - bringing me to this vey place in order to view the serpents. We are in Clifton, I think you will find, Valerie.” —
Clifton
“Oh yes!” said Lady Valerie absently, “I’m sure he’ll have some Talcum of Medellin lying about the place, or a disco biscuit if that takes your fancy.” —
Talcum of Medellin
“Hurrah!” sang Clismathea, “Lordy’s bumbum is all bunged up with rapid-drying cement and tincture of guano. What a hoot!” —
Clismathea
“Like that’s like seriously like cosmic,” opined sagely Vladimir Inhali from where he still … er …squatted on the toilet, “like can I like try it now?” —
Vladimir Inhali
“Oh!” said Illingworth the Colonist joyfully, “fresh meat! How perfectly delightful! I’ll just pop off and mix some more cement. The wheelbarrow is still in the back garden.” —
Mr Illingworth
This site would like to use cookies to count visits and measure advertising. Nothing is set unless you accept.
