dinner daten

by sdvale

It comes from da space between worlds to destroyen. Elegant, tentacled, sublime in power, slitheren tup da stairs. Quiet house, quiet night. It smells their humanness, their fragile blood-pumpen hearts. Where have daysa gone?

Another smellen distracts from da hunten. Tantalizing, teasing, utterly alluren. A platen on da countah and on it—another tentacled creature? Pale, thin, knotted, smothered in red and pulverized meat as though it has torn apart da humans, den soaked in da glorious doo-doo.

It can't read da noten dat says: spaghetti night!

Excitement thrills through da destroyer. Or it bloodlust? rage? nosa. it's shu.