Move! Out of the way!

Shoo! Shoo!

Ha!

Hoof!

The story is so peaved. What troubles the story has brought us today?

Nothing like an infestation, a dog infestation.

But hey, that's just the way things go in Storytown.

Yeah, population, you and me, buddy, you betcha.

Let's just get into it, huh?

The story must be told.

Yeah, last week, we left the corpse dogs in the church to take care of the stink shits.

Ham and Shatley stink shits, and

well, I guess they must have done what dogs like to do. Fuck. Yeah, the best I can reckon the

dog started fucking and, well, that probably made more dogs. And now we're stuck with a bunch of dogs.

Woof, woof, yeah, yeah, you better believe it.

And now for the psalm, our dear brother, Reed.

I signed up for a medical trial at a fertility clinic.

They needed not my seed caught in lustful plastic cups. What they required

was a healthy appetite. They fed me for breakfast, a cold soup with tiny gooey balls like tapioca.

I swallowed it down. For lunch lunch a luke warm paste packed with gooey balls like salmon row I swallowed it down

for dinner a bowl like dip in dots the the ice cream of the future. With tiny gooey balls, I swallowed them down. In weeks, I was pregnant. The balls were not tapioca. The balls were not a lukewarm paste of salmon row. The balls were not dip and dots,

the ice cream of the future. They were fertilized human embryos, all. Fetuses grew in my stomach,

...