Published Monday, November 26th, 2012
Words by Elliot Brooks
Elliot Brooks
Elliot once stabbed a man in Brooklyn. It wasn’t pretty. Since then he has evolved as a person and now practises charity, love, and only the lighter high treasons. He writes in between his various inter-galactic loving making sessions with big bosomed alien vixens, who definitely really exist. Usually he writes satire, but every now and then he writes a story about two men in a shed with itchy scrotal sacks. If you want more of his writing please send money to his current kidnapper Queen Elizabeth II, with an attached note specifying which prisoner you are referring to. And now my – his – hand hurts.