(read desc.)

"How terrible-to feel everything, and still get full credit for being dead." Ilario thought to himself as his arm fell off again.

Abusing their inexplicable time travel powers probably wasn't the best idea, thought the girls as they continued to do so anyway.

"It's not as though they were using their limbs anymore," Lena stated in the boy's defense. 

They had always assumed that Pineapples would be the most likely fruit to attempt mass genocide. And yet the persimmons persisted.

"Is this horror or comedy?" the writer asked, chewing her pen before using it to scratch the side of her head. "I don't think that it's either, " replied the creature, the needle teeth he possessed looking even more unnatural through the movement of his jaw, "as that would imply that what you are writing could be considered frightening and/or funny. I must admit that I am not versed in such topics. I am, however, versed in being the physical manifestation of your worst describable fears. Could we focus on that, please?"