No, Seriously

“What’s it called?”

“Fairy Oil.”

There’s a cloud of smoke in the room, and the lights are all low, in a dozen colours, like the inside of a fogged kaleidoscope.

“How do we do it?” asks Remy.

Stomper hands each of them a vial of thin green liquid.  It flouresces in the miasma.  “Ok,” he says, sitting on the couch.  “This is gonna sound weird.”

They all wait.

“You have to pour it on your feet.”

There is a brief argument, and then Remy tries it, ’cause why the fuck not?  It doesn’t work.

And then he sees some shit.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: