By alittlebitdarkorange and bluesprinkles on February 4, 2004

Oysters are what everyone wanted that cold and quiet evening, but all we had was clams.

Wet, juicy, poisoned, yet delicious as jam on more jam, clams.

We never expected death.

After the death, I felt satisfaction, but wondered what else I could've eaten that might have given me an extra zing in the pants. But that's just the dream.

Now I'm in purgatory, and I haven't yet seen a single one of my fellow poisonees anywhere.
"For a while I think I'll just ravage the women that live down below, and maybe eat their babies for desert.

Mmmm, babies.