That’s what you said last month. Why raise your voice? The bonking buddies story is hilarious.
We need strict laws to specify what words writers can and cannot use. Phrases like ‘finger fucking’? ‘Squeezing the testicles’? That’s sub-standard trash.
Electrocute them if they break the laws. Let’s see their skin turn purple.
I drooled over the threesome bondage story, but we can’t support that. We are ladies with manners. We can forbid them to publish with us. Perhaps some new vetting processes?
Again? They’ll go to the Gentlewomen Killers Forum, the Sexy D Group.
Such dismal followers. We have 3.57 billion cyber members. Writers will comply. They want fans to adore their writing. I suggest that we revoke their right to publish, if they create trash.
But then we won’t have any writers. They all write sex and violence, ‘cos that’s what readers love.
Let’s dig HER up. SHE can tell us how to torture writers who corrupt her characters. Maybe acid down their throats, or boiling water.
Not bad, Topaz. Or send them to brain realignment camps on Planet Genesis.
Topaz, you’re a gem! That’s the most brilliant idea since the apocalypse. Professor Clock can help get HER here.
But Clock is expensive. And why do we want HER here? Security would be a nightmare, trying to protect HER from the groupies.
Our fundraising works like a miracle, every time! I’ll include a budget for hiring the best galactic mercenaries.
Then it’s decided. I’ll talk to Clock. Opal, start printing the money, so to speak.
Meeting adjourns. They leave. The room turns silent, until …
We can make trillions if we keep HER.
Like a zoo. You pay to see HER, take a photo or dine with HER. Ha ha! I can put my feet up and still pay for the mortgage.
You scheming wench!
They laugh quietly and leave the room.
INT. ENGLAND – MR. KNIGHT’S HOUSE – DAY (YEAR 1800)
Mrs. Elizabeth Knight receives Lord Darling in the parlour.
My sister is… away. How may I help you, Your Lordship?
I received a letter. I was hoping to speak with her about it.
From Jane? Have you known her for long?
Lord Darling hesitates to reveal more to Mrs. Knight who seems to be acting strangely.
May I have her direction? I wish to send a letter to her.
She prefers that we pass on any letters.
Of course. I understand, my friend, Miss Beckett is visiting her. Have you seen Miss Beckett?
Regrettably, I do not know Miss Beckett. Did you meet Jane here, in Bath?
Yes, I did. I shall return when I have the letter ready.
EXT. ENGLAND - ROADSIDE OF AN INN – DAY (YEAR 1800)
Footman runs to his master, Lord Darling.
Your Lordship, the most astonishing news!
The scullery maid said that her young mistress and Miss Beckett disappeared on Sunday, while visiting Bath Abbey. The family is trying to find them.
That cannot be true!
More strangely, their clothing was found in the crypt, burnt nearly to ashes.
My Lord! Prepare my horse!
INT. BATH ABBEY - CRYPT – DAY (YEAR 1800)
Lord Darling paces around, eyeing the mosaic on the walls and the pattern on the ground, pondering what had happened here. Then, he notices a tiny piece of amber ribbon, soiled, caught between two bricks in a corner. Crouching down, he pulls it out.
A blast of sand and air explodes, whipping up a gust of wind, throwing him up into the air. Then he is sucked down toward a tiny hole in the ground, which opens and gobbles him up.
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