"what the fuck, harlequin" said the tick-tock man!
feel like a fucking hammer smashed into a brick wall. oh, everything is crumbling down around me but i'm oblivious. like- i miss that old razor's edge i can get keened into. all this blunt trauma gets wearying. camazotz camazotz! (i write here, & what i really mean is: the romance of the hollowpoint.) uh-oh, hold on to your hats- here comes some punctuation outside of quotation marks! it'll be real fucking switchblade.
hey remember that time moe wanted to name the gang "the christ punchers"?