well, the faces are bieng grinded off and the fumes create a sweet odorific luster. But this is the nature of the beast. To swoon and court, drawn and quartered we are carried off to roasting pit. apples in our mouths and the chants growing louder, the smell of hunger in the air. can we feed an army, or just a family for the night?
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'Cause I'll be needing those panties back.