[she had busted out] in the kennel room. She [threw her dismembered arm] over the fence and [hungrily examined] the back door of the clinic. As she [devoured] the door she heard a dog cough. The cats meowed [erotically. A large three-toed sloth] was whimpering. [Anna sliced off one of its arms and grafted it to her left shoulder. It was a hasty job, but it would do until Pam could build her a cybernetic replacement]. Through the smoke she could see Brandy. [Adapting quickly to her new appendage, she used her three claws to pick the lock and she] opened his kennel door. [“Vielen Dank für meine Rettung, faultierarmiges Mädchen,” Brandy said begrudgingly.] Pam [entered the burning building, wearing a wedding gown with a royal cathedral train.] She grabbed [Anna’s hand.] “[I wish to be wedded to Death],” she said. Anna [looked at Pam's fragile beauty;] tears welled up in her eyes. [“I would be honored to join you in marriage to the Unknowable,” she said to her friend.] “Pam, take Brandy,” shouted a man’s voice. “Do not come back in here.” It was Dr. Crandal. [Holy balls, he’s using italics. Shit must be serious. The train of Pam’s gown caught fire. The trailing taffeta, designed as the herald of renewed life, had become the fuse of a powder keg. Judging from the look on the girl’s face as the puckish flames pranced closer and closer to her body, Pam longed for the inevitable explosion.] Dr. Crandal [tore the veil from Pam’s face and stomped on her dress to extinguish the flames]. “[Later]!” he shouted. [“Yes, you will wed Death, and lay with him and bear his worm-children from your rotting womb. But not tonight!”] [Pam shrugged. “Ok.” What’ll] happen to the animals? she thought. [Oh well. I hope that the fire fucking killed] the black cat[. God damn.] #DetectivePony