AcmeShorts

"Tip o'the foreskin to ya," saluted the aberrant sailor, gruesomely.

What type of shantytown was this? Where were the shanties?

I clutched my child/cousin-bride haphazardly, perhaps grabbing her by the ears, or the throat. I didn't know. It was simply instinctual to protect us from the stench of blood sausage, as we passed wearily through the portal towards my rented Escalade.

Rarely the religious type, I managed a faint "God help us" as I slipped upon something that could only be construed as...

Forget it. This is too gross.