When You Dance With The

C’mon, Tally. Don’t You Want Your Clothes, Your Keys? Oh Wait, How About Some Dignity? (kyrian)

The Man Hates Your Guts More Than Stryker Does. You’ll Be Lucky If He Doesn’t Pull Your Spine Out Through Your Nostrils. (tory) Nice To Have Miss Merry Sunshine Back Again. Any Other Eeyore Outlooks You’d Like To Share? (acheron)

Or More Precisely, Is There Anything I Can Do For You, Ma’am? (waiter) ‘how About A Bag For My Head, Or A Stick To Beat Lanie With?’ (grace)

Daimons, Vampires, Ghouls, Whatever You Want To Call Them. They Suck Your Blood And Your Soul And Leave You With Nothing. Kind Of Like Lawyers. (selena)

I Mumble Hocus-pocus And The Next Thing You Know, I’m A Cat. (ravyn) I Suppose It’s A Step Up. The Last Guy I Had In My House Could Only Turn Into A Beer-drinking Pig. (susan)