The Pulp #03: Orientation

“And that, my sweet, supple henchmen–,” Girwin half-assedly lilted, and was promptly interrupted mid-spittle by the grotesque, phlegm-clogged bleating of one of the newly hired sacrificial lambs in his morning tour group.


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The Pulp #02: Terry, Please Shut Up

Terry screamed and bled out all over the carpeted floor, and Paulence and Jennda bickered.


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The Pulp #01: There Goes My Nipples Again

The woman wearing very little strutted across the parking lot, and the stupid man walked into a closed door.


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