| Bertha strode through town, reeking of rotted flesh and sour milk. The innkeeper had been warned she was walking about and so quickly extinguished his oven. Bertha burst into the outer room of the inn screaming. "I'm hungry!"
"We...we're closed for the night. There's no food to be had here," the innkeeper stammered.
"Ooh, there's food here," Bertha said, smacking her lips. "Meat is, after all, meat." |