Rosehead

Cherry liked watching the pretty bulbous eyes of the Santa Gertrudis in the kill chamber until they went blank.

Glory Udder

Growling along to the electric chiming of Sarah’s Ibanez hollow-body licks, Press again started to feel the sickness that didn’t want to admit it was a sickness.

Ruins of the Sun

The first whispers I heard concerning Louis le Palme’s Ruins of the Sun arrived just hours before the film’s first and, as far as I have been able to determine, only screening.