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Scorched from my surfing expedition, riding the boiling hot waves of destroyed Martian, I crawl away with just my pants. How am I going to explain this to the wife, wherever she is? And now I wake to this mumbling man of God questioning everything. Very unlike a Curate. Where do we go from here? What's to happen next?
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Scorched from my surfing expedition, riding the boiling hot waves of destroyed Martian, I crawl away with just my pants. How am I going to explain this to the wife, wherever she is? And now I wake to this mumbling man of God questioning everything. Very unlike a Curate. Where do we go from here? What's to happen next?