There’s no surer sign of the decline of home economics in the village than the sight of shambling horrors parading down the path from the castle, each a chimera stitched from creatures and men, yet by the time they reach our square, they’ve lost AT LEAST one limb, strings trailing behind them.

An attempt to abduct a single child then prompts MORE rupturing and once again, we have to apportion precious well water to mopping unspooled monsters off the cobblestones.

Shoddy stitchwork. It’s shameful.

Has this ever happened to you?

“My magic tome drinks too much blood!”

“I have a month’s worth of summoning ahead of me… and I’m starting to look like a prune because of how much blood it takes to cover the walls and ceilings with sigils to keep the Unfathomable Powers from wrenching my home into the void!”

“There HAS to be a better way!”

NOW there is! Come on down to The Grove of Runnels after dark for 98% off our selections of liquids!

Come alone! And after drinking a big glass of water! We’ll stay open ’til you get here!

It’s Friday and we all know what that means! It’s the day of the week when the Select must travel to the well and confirm that the silver nails driven into the soil that cap the pit are intact. A careful count, verified by three parties, and if any nails are missing, they must be replaced. A quick summoning of the Mistress of Soft Oak so we can give thanks (the gift of two favorite memories, gone forever) for her part in sealing the well and we’re ready for the weekend!

PARTY TIME!

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This is why the Select have a rotating membership. By the time any of their number are left with a head full of neutral grey memories, they’re replaced with someone else who’s lived a life of delight: caresses, tongue sweetness, soft lights, etc.

Then the new member is slowly stripped of that accumulated joy to protect the village. Every debt must be paid, or so it’s said. And chanted. And sung in rotating choruses for weeks on end when the nights grow long.

Perfect Halloween costume:
The person who forgot it was Halloween a few days ago.

YOU WILL NEED:
Phrasebook: “Aww man, it was Halloween already? I’ve been so busy… I had the perfect costume.” and “Yeah, no, I know it was days ago, but like… trick or treat?”

Normal clothing

Sincerity

ENJOY ALL THE CANDY YOU’RE GONNA GET NOW THAT ALL YOUR COMPETITION HAS MOVED ON!

It’s daylight savings time and we all know what that means! Time to black out our windows and bar our doors, same as last year, so the Newest Hour, newly born into our world and ravenous, teeth made of the sharpest of minutes, is kept from making a meal of our loved ones. All it takes is one crack for it to wiggle in! Stay young and wrinkle free, indoors for the full day, and may the Newest Hour feast on some OTHER lost souls out there in the dark.

It’s Friday and we all know what that means! Time to figure out how to get this chicken, fox and bag of grain across this dang river! Okay. We can do this. First, gather the village elders. We’ll need the strength of their blood. We’ll need a mixing bowl. Where are the stars? GARY GOSHDANGIT you’re on star-watching duty now TELL US WHERE THE STARS ARE! Oh, and a shivering thing has already snatched the chicken beneath the rock pile. Every week this happens, Gary. GARY! C’MON!

It’s Tuesday and we all know what that means! We’ve failed! We failed to present the birth and horror of another Tuesday! All those clocks we murdered in the town square. All those calendars at the bottom of our lake. Go free from our prisons those damned souls and their wristwatches… they’ve won. There’s nothing more we can do. Our skins are wrinkling. We are collapsing in a hell of undoing: terrible, terrible Tuesday, cruel despot on its fixed throne!

1) Do not touch the OFF switch located between her shoulder blades. I forgot to document what that controls and it might be important.

2) Check with your preferred physician or mechanist to receive confirmation that you don’t have any x-ray-related allergies.

3) Use encryption.

4) Leave me out of it, weirdo.

It’s Wednesday and we all know what that means! It’s time to head down to the Star Chamber downtown to chain more stars together! If there are any stars in the sky that are not yet in constellations, by secret ballot shall we name and bind them, so no star rises above its station, or dares to approach. Every constellation a prison, every star immobile! A sacred responsibility! Search the skies, damn you! If even one gets through, we’ll all burn!