I was almost knocked down by the squealing porcine form that barrelled down my dark passageway. As I turned into the parlour I found myself agog at the gaggle of gorgeous girls gathered before me. Heinz had no doubt fled in shame at the ill-fitting lederhosen I insisted the rotund little German wear.
Space convulsed. Flames of black snaked around me as I warped in and out of existence before being squeezed out of the temporal effluvium. I stuffed the time hamster back
In which Franklyn returns from a sojourn in the country to an intoxicating adventure under the streets of London with a horde of malformed Cockneys.
The son of an offal miner and a milliner, Franklyn soon learned that people are like gloves stuffed with organs. If you remove the organs, you can wear the glove.
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