I run a shoppe on the High Street, a tiny place that has a terrible word of mouth reputation, primarily for the produce I sell.
In my shop, Sebaceous Splendors, you can find the finest cuts of skin, the purest jars of blood, and the cleanest bones on the continent. Looking for a body part? Come to Sebaceous. Need a fresh organ to grind? Sebaceous has you covered. And where do you go when your sinew and tendons run low? You guessed it: Sebaceous.
In the cold light of day, townsfolk would not be caught dead entering my establishment, which is why I switched to night hours.
Under the cloak of twilight, as the rest of the village sleeps, slippered feet shuffle across cobblestones and slink into my shoppe. The shadowed alleyways surrounding my business are choked with clientele awaiting their turn to dash in and purchase a bit of the abnormal, either for spells and enchantment or to satisfy an unnatural appetite. I cast no aspersions. I sell what I sell. What you do with it is your own affair.
Not all who visit are right-minded, as one might surmise. Some syphilitic fingersmiths seek to cheat me of my efforts by attempting to nick a spleen or appendix and make a mad dash for it, which is why I purchased a NeverEver dog, so named because if one ever sank its five rows of teeth into you, you would never commit that or any crime ever again.
So, the next time you have a craving for something that cannot be procured at your local mart or need to bind someone to you, heart and soul, for all eternity, consider dropping by Sebaceous Splendors, open Midnight to Dawn, with nightly Hour of the Wolf specials!
Remind me to never eat at your house. There’s a lot of digesting of human flesh in your stories. Is there something you’d like to get off your chest?
Great post, as always!
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Not off my chest, no. The meats that run along the spine are the sweetest.
And were you to dine at my humble abode, you would experience the meal of your life, quite literally.
I jest, of course.
Perhaps.
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LOL! How could a lady turn down such a gracious invitation? Will you send your driver for me, or should I provide my own transportation?
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I’ll happily send a car for you…if you don’t mind riding in a meat wagon.
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LOL! Mind? I’d expect nothing less from you!
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Not a cannibal, not a cannibal, not a cannibal……..I want that on the record! But if I walked by the shop, I’d have to stick my head in for a peek to satisfy my curiosity.
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Methinks the lady doth protest too much. Feel free to be who you are. This is a safe space. You’re amongst friends here.
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My only question is what’s the address?
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DM me and I’ll send you Google Map directions.
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Now who could turn away from such Sebaceous Splendor? I didn’t know you were so good at marketing and advertising, Rhyan. Makes me want to revoke my vegetarian status and dig into a nice piece of meaty flesh. And pure blood would be a great substitute for boring, white milk. Lets add some vivacious color. You have been coaxing your readers towards these meaty pleasures. I see a sudden lifestyle change… 🙂
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I would never dream of diverting you from your vegetarian path, Queen ‘Veen. Having said that, should you ever wish to take a succulent culinary walk on the forbidden flesh side, it would be my absolute honor to serve as your tour guide.
And for the record, my knowledge in the field of humanae ediblis is strictly academic, and though many have tried, no one can prove anything to the contrary.
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Haha. Thank you so much, Rhyan.
Queen ‘Veen sounds so good…
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Oh, you’d hate knowing me in real life. I’d nickname you ten ways to Sunday. Terrible habit, drives people and pets crazy.
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Haha! Dear sir, I beg to differ. But I know you don’t care. That’s what I admire about you. Oops! Have I said too much. My expression won’t give me away. It’s etched in stone. 🙂
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Me? Not care? I’ll have you know, my good lady, that I happen to be the epitome of caring. I know this to be a fact because it says so on my business card: “Carer of All Things Veenie-Bean Related.” Deny my affections all you like, Gilly-Girl. I will not be dissuaded.
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Lol. No denial, Rhyan.
How come I didn’t get your business card? Are we not partners in rhyme?
Much gratitude, Terry-Stone-Fish-Gill.
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I offered to leave my business card with your secretary but I was informed that my name wasn’t on the approved Partners In Rhyme list and “La Editora Cara de Piedra is far too busy to deal with everyday, commonplace riffraff.”
So, cheers for giving me the Hollywood “I’ll have my people talk to your people” brush-off. I remember a much simpler time when you and I would sit over a steaming cup of the misfortunes of others and we made that sacred promise that no matter where our roads led us, we’d never let it spoil our special relationship.
I–I’m sorry, I can’t continue typing this…my tears are getting in the way.
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Drama king…Lol. 🙂
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Ice queen.
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