Never walk alone



Do you want to eat me?

Ned*…you know, I forgot how damn creepy you were this way.

Do you want to eat me?

…I’ve definitely heard that enough for one lifetime. Probably two, if you count…actually, never mind…

Do you want to eat me?

…don’t have much time left before this place goes to oblivion…hold on…

Do you want to- euRgH…GAHhHHH”hhh!”

…sorry about the wait.


“-don’t. Focus on breathing. It’s probably not going to come naturally, after spending so long in that body. At least initially.”



…a nod. That’s good. Time for you to start wearing clothes again, too- they aren’t the best fit, but…well, you can thank her later. Here…


“…don’t you give me that Look*. If I was a grade A pervert, do you really think I’d pick that sack? You’re safe from just about everyone besides a damn scarecrow in that thing…oops.”


Now we’re talking! Sanity to swearwords in three minutes straight, with two to go before the place goes boom. Right then…this should be fun…

“Alice. That’s your name, right? It says so there, anyway. Now, Alice, this…is Frank. Frank- good luck. Watch that left hook. And don’t try to sell her any of your damn interior design. Again.”


“Trust me. Keep that book safe and you’ll be fine. It’s been written in there, somewhere or another, and those things don’t lie***. Now piss off, before this officially becomes the biggest waste of time since the invention of golf****.”

…whoever would’ve guessed her name was Alice. Really. That’s a quality name. Possibly not her real name, of course, but y’know. I’ve definitely heard worse.

It’s a start…



* Non Existent Diety

** This Look suggests that any man who carries a set of women’s clothing around with him absolutely has to be a pervert. In fairness, this may well be the case- as is the fact that someone could also be very well prepared and/or obsessed with public decency. You never know, however probable the former usually is.

*** He assumes…

**** The only thing worse than actual golf is golf on TV. Unless you like golf.


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