Mar. 26th, 2020

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It's Thursday, the day we dedicate to Simon's absolute best boy, Sparky the Hellhound.

This week, check out these two Doberus bois from Jewel of the Nerd and AwwfulAdoptables:

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"How is he doing that?" Marshall demanded, sneakered feet sliding uselessly on the worn carpet as he attempted to shoulder the manticore off his bed.

The manticore, for it's part, dug six inch claws through successive layers of duvet, bed-sheet, and mattress. The sound of ticking being ripped apart did not quite drown out the rumble of contentment from the drowsy monster.

"Doing what?" asked Simon, waving a catnip mouse near the doorway without any real expectation of success.

"Everywhere I go, he's in the way," said Marshall. "I want to take a shower, he's sleeping in it. I want to go to bed, he's sleeping in it. I want to watch TV, he's sleeping on it. I think he does it on purpose."

"You're overreacting," said Dash, ducking under the jiggling mouse on a string and slipping into the bedroom. The manticore rolled onto it's side, furling one huge wing and granting him unobstructed access to the closet.

"Yeah," said Marshall, bitterly. "I just imagined that he let you past after hissing and spitting at me all afternoon when I tried to get in."

The manticore narrowed fist-sized yellow eyes at him.

"I think he heard you," said Simon.

Ongoing Verse: Microwave

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The Castle Beneath the Waves rose up from the black waters, saltwater streaming down rotted stone, battlements festooned with seaweed. Stranded fish flopped helplessly in too-small puddles, mouths opening and closing in a call for help that could never reach human ears.

Ropey tentacles shot up from the choppy surface, seizing the suddenly-land-bound animals and dragging them back to the safety of the deeps. Janet Donner released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and re-lit her cigarette with shaking hands.

"You need to warn them beforehand!" she shouted across the lake. "Put up a sign or something! Assholes."

Ongoing Verse: Janet

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Sara Sue stretched her bare feet out towards the roaring fire, wriggling her toes in the warmth of the flames.

Her hotel room had no hearth, no flue, not even the jutting outline of a long-ago chimney breast. Still, the day outside was cold and damp, weather that called for a fire. So she'd drawn one.

There was a knock at the door. The heat and the glow had made her drowsy, so she gestured to the Paper Doll to go answer. It grasped the handle with strange, flat hands, and that's when a stray spark set it on fire.

Ongoing Verse: Pay Attention

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