“A swath of frog, a pinch of newt; a heart filled with wicked plots.” The witches three cackled as each secretly questioned their subsistence farming lifestyle.
Though he would never show it, Jeff had a small, kind, and deeply intimate part that always thought of himself as an entropy fighter, not a janitor.
Despite Jeff’s defense that he was “too cool for school,” the firefighter internal affairs division still thought it was inappropriate that he stood and laughed as the children unsuccessfully ran out of the burning building.
Jeff’s job as museum curator was cut short by his insistence that all the exhibits be “sensual friends”.
