“Let us the f**k go you conjoined freaks!” the blonde one exclaimed.
Adams smacked her across the back of the head and bared his knife. There would never be utterance again. There would never be pure silence. Everything would live under the threat of spleens being exposed. The elders glared at the two women kneeling before them. “Turn around,” Fester exclaimed. “I want to see your behind.”
They spun around, still on their knees. “Shapely,” Astor said.
“Enjoyable,” Fester replied. “Let me guess: the brunette will taste like coconut and the blonde will taste like suicide. Which should we devour first?”
“Don’t know, brother.”
“I think we’ll devour the blonde first. She’s strong-willed and her meat will be tougher. The brunette will submit to our will. She’ll be like dessert. I’m envision
