The luncheon of cucumber sandwiches, jellies and champagne was proceeding smoothly when above the ambient chatter could be heard what sounded an abrasive trumpetblast as Mr Glab had lifted his leg and cranked out a garrulous ‘bwampf’.
After many hours of torture the jailor leaned towards his captor who had not uttered a single word and he snarled, “Not saying anything today are we now Mr Holt? The cat got your skull mat?”
The saloon doors swung open and Oltha the town cunt strode in. He bellowed to the soused rabble there, “Heyo all. I’m not just the town cunt anymore. I’ve become worse. Im now toxic as well as a cunt. I’m the county’s very first Cuntox!”
Xehuti rose up into the air. His new wings holding him high above the battlefield’s dead. Good men who were driven unto pastures so green but at what cost? The tears fell from his skull globes.