Now, I'm not usually in the habit of rating these stories. Perhaps I'm simply a lurker that way; reading, not writing; absorbing and retaining, not excreting, if that would be a little more in-line with the gooey theme. In fact, without a doubt I wouldn't be writing these comments had I not stumbled over a particular paragraph. I can assure you that I nearly physically stumbled over it; truly, it nearly broke me, waves of horror washing over me. Fear permeates my every action and thought now; I now routinely glance over my shoulder from time to time, just in case my terrifying, gibbering thoughts might be affirmed. And so, I must brave both my agraphic nature and my blood-chilling paranoia to ask a simple question, a question that perhaps will answer what I need to know about this sentence:
'Eurydice's appearance woke the lavender girl out of her horny reverie. "Jesus Christ, it's a lime, get in the car!"'
Are you writing these stories *specifically* for me?
I ask this question while bearing in mind that an affirmative answer will simply raise more questions, but I believe it's an important one. Re-reading the other three for background, I can't help but twinge now over every literary reference, every piece of your well-crafted mythology falling into place, every morphic-monster movie reference (John Carpenter's "The Thing"? "Legend of the Overfiend"? You bastard, how did you get into my DVD collection?) without glancing hurriedly about my living room, hoping (or dreading) to catch you dashing behind furniture. Have you been stealing my laptop in the dead of night, looking up my favorite stories to play some twisted Frankenstein game with Sobek's realistic characters and Bill Pratt's fantastic pacing? Although if you've name-dropped Lovecraft as a Lime Guy because of those Call of Cthulhu books lying around, I'm only holding those for a friend. Honestly.
If you *are* simply catering to me with these tailor-made tales, however, I'd like to assure you that it doesn't have to be on such a strange topic, or even involve pornography at all. I do not have a goo fetish, my enjoyment of your stories notwithstanding. Indeed, I don't have a breast-expansion fetish either; I simply come here for the ladies that result (although if you're patient one day, do try explaining that to a significant other who's taken an errant peek at your browser history). I'd read your work in any other setting, concerning any other topic of classical Greek mythology, or indeed any other subject at all, so it surprises me that you'd put it here.
Obviously I'm sorry if this secret I've discovered was purposely kept hidden from me, but if putting in the sentence in question was supposed to be the final clue in an entertaining puzzle, then I hope I've done admirably in decoding it.
I look forward to the fifth, perhaps final, chapter.
...
You may come out from behind my couch now.
