Seven Wishes III

To be… a Masked Avenger, wreaking havoc on our foes, letting slip the dogs of war. Smile as the cruciation commences, scratching our cruel red beard. Then, laying low in the desert with a fretless banjo and a nest of rattle snakes. Singing ‘O velveteen moon, shining pearly light on a drunken whore…’ The perfect savage barbarism, acted out in psychopathic cool, plagued by laughter and insomnia. (Who will sing the praise of Evil?) Let’s escape, over the wall, behind our glasses. ‘Plush Rabbit, your punishment has been suspended, in the light of your great merits for the case.’