“Pan it, Tony!” cried Madeleine. Her husband swung the skillet at an intruder, who fell to the floor with a loud garache. It was a Dundee-d. “This is a bit rum, baba” Madeleine went down on all petits fours & tied the intruder up, ladyfingers pulling the rope torte. He...
The waves never stopped hammering into the pebble beach, that was the injustice of it. They never faded into background noise, they never crept along the bay: it was always violent as if to taunt him. Well to hell with the waves, with the sea itself. He stared back...
“I ain’t spillin’ the beans, pig, you’ll not get a sausage outta me.” “You think this is gonna go over-easy, Cherry? We’re hard-boiled detectives & we know you poached them eggs. You’re toast & there’s gonna be a JAMboree. A little PAIN aux REASON & you’ll start waffling on....