The nearest either of you have
gotten to wings is the crumpled
drink can tossed into the back
seat, gas station energy, or the
basket full of grease and fire that
tasted like salvation you had at
some bar named Bar back east
Oh, I like that. It echoes in my mind.


I want to make my goblin shaman NOW! She will have a crazy hairstyle, a dark, quirky sense of humor, an extreme fondness for blowing shit up, and the name Kikinobo.