I politely bid the lass adieu’ and proceeded to make my escape. The increased contortion of her dog-like visage informed me of her displeasure as she stepped to the side so as to prevent my safe passage beyond her mountainous physique.
I now found myself in a plight most perilous. Betwixt a stone wall and a stone -er- woman I found myself. Her approach made the cobblestone beneath her tread tremble in wonder at her, or rather, quake in fear for their very lives sake.
As she drew ever nigh to me, I sensed an unwelcome odour pervading the air. A thick, dripping sent of sticky molasses and sour-milk wafted, in all its self-proclaimed glory, into my head, via my most abused nostrils.
My head began to whirl and spin as my limbs waxed weak. She grabbed my collar and pulled her face close to mine. Her hot breath surged against my cheeks like unto some tropic storm of fire, or the breath of some fiend-like lizard from Sheol.
In my mind’s eye I could see the withered forms of the undead wailing for mercy as they crawled towards the cavernous exit which flapped open and close with every fresh incantation of eternal affection. Each and every consonant seemed to bring with itself an eerie, artificial, green luminescence which illuminated the silhouettes of the woeful creatures, who would have been content to expire once again if it only meant release from this new found competitor of Hades.