Inside, I Was Like: "ha, Suck My

. . . And So Charlie Asher . . . Led An Army Of Fourteen-inch-tall Bundles Of Animal Bits, Armed With Everything From Knitting Needles To A Spork, Into The Storm Sewers Of San Fransciso.

It's Like Time Travel Only, You Know, Slower.

Foul And Magical Fumes Bubbled Out Of The Kettle, Like The Flatulence Of A Dragon On A Demon-only Diet.

Tommy Had Felt Alone In A Crowd Before, Even Inferior To Everyone In A Crowd, But Now He Felt, Well, Different. It Wasn't Just The Clothes And The Make Up, It Was The Humanity. He Wasn't Part Of It. Heightened Senses Or Not, He Felt Like He Had His Nose Pressed Against The Window, Looking In. The Problem Was, It Was The Window Of A Donut Shop.

Shoes Off In The Whale! And Don't Try And Make A Break For The Anus.