Two demons dressed in Ushanka hats and svita coats, one tall and lanky, the other short and squat, stood shivering in a snowdrift outside the Kremlin in Red Square. They were awaiting a “contact” to deliver news concerning final plans for the uprooting of a certain dynasty, but being Hell-folk acclimated to warmer climes, were faring poorly in the winter chill.
Finally the taller one said to the shorter one, “L-let’s get out of ‘ere, Ligur. I’m so b-bloody freezing I’ve got snotsicles.”
“Yeah? W-well I’m so bloody f-freezing I’ve got testicles.”
The Shore Rated: M He asked him to come to the shore... Nixon/Winters.
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