| The steaming liquid
splashes into the eyes of the monster, and out of the monster's mouth comes
a deafening scream. It thrashes to and fro in agony.
"You big ninny," you say. "It's not like it's water and you're the Wicked Witch of the West." "The what what of the what?" the bound-up lady asks. Still screeching enough to wake a bored zombie, the creature retreats at a frantic pace, quickly becoming a colorless dot on the horizon. You decide to let it go -- live and let live, that sort of thing, you know. |