I’m staked out and spread-eagled on the tarmac of a deserted parking lot.
My world tastes of soot and turps. I’m stuffed. My insides feel like they’ve taken on the worst kind of vindaloo and lost. Gaseous and bloated a strange wiggling sensation is hatching within me. It emanates in my stomach and snakes up from my guts. I suspect it’s connected to the column of black smoke billowing from my mouth.
A neurological cascade informs my brain I‘m about to experience something which will make explosive diarrhea seem like a romantic night out. Read More
