Tim, in the middle of the country, was working on a presentation involving shipping, and planned to illustrate it with a package labelled 'iguana'. Sadly, one cannot ship live animals, even iguanas -- the adorable zombie slug puppies of the animal world, especially if kept cold, when they become torpid and fall off their perches -- otherwise concerned individuals would mercifully mail order them to inhabit the warehouse and lounge upon the radiator in winter.
An iguana, everyone knows, is capable of a whole lot of inexpressible love.
Inexpressible because reptiles aren't quite capable of facial expressions. Whether they're sad or giddy, they'll just look at you, pan-faced. And twitch a scale or two.
Or a ctenosaurid back spike.
While puffing on their fine briar pipe. Virginia Perique. Pensively.
Most iguanas prefer sandblasts, because the textural effect is easier for the paws. All lizards and reptiles, actually. Except for crocodiles, who need large Danish freehands because of their big mits. And probably like aromatics. Grape cavendish.
As one fondly imagines.
Spent all day lazily in front of the computer, reading news items and many Wikipedia articles. The apartment mate was in front of hers, looking at brooches and compacts (bejewelled or precious metal face-powder containers with little mirrors, which women used for going to the bathroom back in the forties and fifties). Cheesy horror films on the telly.
Spiky slug aliens. Giant nuclear spiders. Zombies on galleons. Crawling eyes. Lots of rote screaming and young women wearing underwear or bathing costumes.
Half-assed attempts to flee. And inexplicable "plot" details.
Far better to have a workplace iguana than a work-place zombie, even though the latter does not require any special feeding or a heated rock on which to recline.
Zombies aren't good employees. No work ethic.
"Hey, you're white and sort of Christian, you can do exorcisms!"
Sadly, the professor in the last film was incinerated.
The daemons came back one last time.
He was on their list.
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