I used to hate pajamas. I wouldn't wear them. They were boy clothes that made me look like a boy, and since the only place I could avoid being a boy was in my dreams, where I was usually a girl, it felt doubly wrong.
Turns out all I needed was a little estrogen. Now I love my jamjams, and I'm still a girl in my dreams, but I'm also the girl in my dreams when I'm awake.
How fucking cool is that?
"Yoo bring ate dollars evry month or yoo never see ur riters again. signed, The Melon."
So he was back in town -- The Melon. That grandiose grifter with the bankroll of a Rockefeller and the brain of a toddler. And now he was trying to shake down the news game.
"I'm afraid we're no match for him, Mr. Mastodon," she sobbed. "He's rich and handsome and invents so many clever things."
"It's the clever ones who always make that one fatal mistake," I said. "Like... WALKING RIGHT INTO MY OFFICE!"