life's too short, bisexualize everything

you who shall deserve

CHAPTER ONE

My brother the giant tit idiot dragon-lover spent three hours that morning on his beard while I had to take a piss and of course in Gamlen’s there’s only one bloody place to take a piss isn’t there unless you want to go out back with the dog and that’s where Gamlen was taking his piss this morning and no matter how I banged on the bloody door he told me to come back later when I had hair on my chin which (he added for clarification’s sake and also to be a giant tit idiot dragon-lover some more since it comes so naturally to him) would be half-past the hour of never and then I shouldered the door down and the dog started barking and I think Gamlen pissed on himself because of it and now my giant tit idiot dragon-loving brother is pleased as a nug in a rug with himself and showing off his beard every chance he gets and I wish someone would excavate his sodding Deep Roads for a change instead of him expecting all of us to bend over wouldn’t that be lovely? 

THE TALE OF THE CHAMPION ACCORDING TO GARRETT HAWKE

CHAPTER ONE

I was looking handsome as usual—when don’t I? But this beard doesn’t maintain itself—and Carver was looking as though he had to piss, also as usual, and everywhere we went strangers were asking us were we certain we were related and then if Carver’d been dropped on his enormous head or something similarly tragic. I, sadly, had to tell them the story of how he used to eat mud when we were younger because he thought it was chocolate pudding and we think he might have done the damage that way. But his face, of course, was what they really meant, and no one knows what happened there, though I’ve always suspected a rogue accident with a wild bronto, or perhaps a terrible curse set upon him for being so incredibly unpleasant to talk to all the time. In any case, I saved the day, also as usual, and lit the mean people on fire, and accidentally singed off Carver’s eyebrows so he couldn’t make that face anymore, and we all went back to our hovel, happy as you please.

THE TALE OF THE CHAMPION ACCORDING TO LEANDRA HAWKE

CHAPTER ONE

It becomes more and more clear to me every day that I shall never have a portrait of my children in which they appear to be normal and not, unfortunately, possessed. 

THE TALE OF THE CHAMPION ACCORDING TO MALCOLM AND BETHANY HAWKE

CHAPTER ONE

It would have been a miracle if they’d gotten along without us.