Nothing stays the same

Chapter fifteen

Butchering someone alive gives a thrill, horror, or utter disgust—safe to save it gave safety...ragging that Tall one down, pushing him off the cliff the same as the victim was...
The female and the other, weren't anywhere to be seen, after dinner that night, likely eaten alive—flesh devoured, utterly grotesquely expected, one always reaps what they sow.
The mute ended up getting to living in the apartment building, below one's themself and the bumbling bloke—Mrs. H and he seems to get along perfectly fine, whatever they talked about.
The bumbling bloke thought it would be a good idea to turn it into a novel, and ended up doing so..called 'Horrors of the Vacation' in which the editor was pleased about the unexpected manuscript arriving two weeks ahead of the deadline.
Pity the newspaper as bleak and entertaining as it was, always had a nosy person writing about the world, one way or another.
In his case, her name is Rosemary Darnell. A short girl, around the height of five-two, with cutely naturally pink hair with glowing big red eyes, like shiny roses.
Appearing in front of himself. How mundane, shoving a sheep bladder down her tiny, sharp-mouthed mouth hole would've done wonders at this moment and time.
"Your novels." Rosemary Darnell spoke, "I find them rather—morbid, not too entirely unexpected out of the refined genres, but perhaps—a happy novel would be an interesting change."
If she wanted to read a happy novel, then kissing an ass isn't going to be wonders upon self's self-respecting temperament.
"I don't know happiness." Zheng Peng remarked, "What are you implying, Miss Rosemary?"
"I mean. You should try and change the genre, otherwise, one-day people might get bored of your writing style." Rosemary Darnell explained, "Aren't you going to change a little? To stick with the times?"
Is she going to Nether on about these static bullshit ideals, sounding like the editor without half of the wit and balls, to say it outright and frontals upon anything else?
"Peng Peng doesn't have to change his writing style." Ling Sung Jiao remarked, "I quite like his writing style, much more entertaining considering I'm in the novels multiple times, nice to meet you pinky, my name is Ling Sung Jiao."
A goat meeting a bumbling bloke isn't that interesting letting it play out while grinning manically in the background while enjoying pure bliss, for the few moments existing within, within exception as well.
"Oh." Rosemary Darrel spoke, "Your Ling Sung Jiao? I imagined you to be so much more—idiotic."
"Oh." Ling Sung Jiao smiled, "I expected you more of a shorter lass, with a shameless backside as well."
The underlining conversation can be spoken as rather simple, as simple as trying to have sex with four people on the same small couch in the living room.
Understandable things could've gotten out of control, wasn't for Mute's simple and shrewd solution, throwing a vase at Rosemary's head. Causing the body the slam onto the floor, with extreme pain.
"Brilliant, she's shut up and isn't dead. Suppose, this isn't a horrible deal afterwards." Zheng Peng commented, "She might write a horrible review afterwards, upon waking up though."
Mrs.H landed her in the trash cans in the back alleyways, we're only street rats, mutts and drug addicts and perhaps a sex worker would be scraping up for food and items as well.