Crone's page

*cackles*

Fantasy Monster: Hungry Hut

A lone cottage at the edge of forest...

*cackles*

*cackle*

Aye! Tis the end of days, as the old rhyme foretells:

When spring rains in high summer come
and the plague-wagoner beats his drum,
when monkey rises in suit of red
kiss your ass goodbye, we're all dead...

*cackle*

*cackle*

Everyone knows the only sure cure for plague is blackstrap molasses and devilwort, brewed for a fortnight under the waning moon and delivered the old-fashioned way. Let me get my tube and squeeze-bag...

*cackle*

*cackle*

As well ye did not. Remember the saying:

Whack a pigeon in July
And by September ye shall die!

The Old Wisdom is true.

*cackle*

*cackle*

‘Tis an omen for sure! Best rub your palms with linseed oil and spit thrice in each direction without stopping for a drink or the carpenter’s mange’ll take ye, sure as a duck eats iron nails to know True North!

*cackle*

*nekkid cackle*

*cackle!*

Dead it be the thread
as cold as stone
and drenched in dread
oh the worms will be full fed!

*cackle!*

'Tis an ill omen to be sure. Quick! Drink this marmsybark tea and spit thrice on a cobbler's bench else ye'll not see Michaelmas sunrise.

CACKLE CACKLE CACKLE!