It was quiet again.

My attorney had taken his robe off and was pouring an AP pot on his chest to facilitate the tanning process. “What the hell are you blogging about?” he muttered, staring up at the daemon moon with his eyes closed and covered with wraparound Elven sunglasses. “Neva mind” I said. “It’s your turn ta drive boss.” I hit the brakes and aimed the Great Red Ridin’ Wulf toward the edge of the path.

No point in mentioning these rats, I thought. The poor bastard will see them soon enough.