Space marine science fiction is why I ride elevators. But only down. Only express.
SPOILERS: Not everyone gets out alive.
Or: How A Witch Revealed to Me The Fabric of the Cosmos
Not so much reluctant as squeamish.
You feel the smoking nostrils on your back every step of the way.
It’s like I’m just *giving* them away!
I get that dreamy look in my eye that says Oh my God, never touch me.
Dearly beloved, I’ve been asked to say a few words.
Look, I want cool costumes, technobabble, and someone pondering humanity’s place in the universe.
Info to save you time, money, and sanity.