(Continued entry from guest blogger Terribilis)
I had quite the nice dinner a few full moons ago gorging myself on the deli lady who worked at Sam’s Market & Deli (not the real name of the place, by the way).
She thought herself so high and mighty she not only made a cuckold of her husband, who works there too, but also swore like a sailor. The way she talked, which had all the hallmarks of a subaltern upbringing, was constantly infused with the choicest four-lettered words and insults to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. All upstanding Catholics know it is wicked to blaspheme; a topic on which the Bible is clear, especially the Gospels.
Now of course, I am a reasonable destroyer of humans, the werewolf that I am. I didn’t immediately eat her up. As a customer of Sam’s Market & Deli I had several interactions with her. I admonished her of her wickedness and tried to save her soul, but to no avail. She would look upon me with squinty-eyed disdain from behind her glasses, tell me to mind my own ‘God-d**med business’, and denounced the Holy Spirit.
I really didn’t want to consume her, but...
(to be continued)