Teaser 2

The Setting:

Somewhere out there amongst the caverns, today, a real-life Big Bad Wolf, in an exceedingly rare but conclusive sighting, was prowling, which odd behaviour was — barely — audible to Jericho. Those faint noises were plenty blood-curdling, in that Jericho was able to make them out at all, let alone clearly. Just the two of them were shut up tight, in a chamber sound-proofed for privacy, which was moreover constructed, for all intents and purposes, to defy armageddon. All a-growl and a-scowl the Wolf was, scouring for any possible scent of a doomed goat to let scape for the quenching of his wrath. His minions thanked their own Fates, one by one, for being grumblingly spared as irreplaceable, though they were still in the shits.

The team had been ramping up for the imminent Asian tour, Morpheus Dawning, but preparations had stalled while deadlines were looming. The engineer was tearing her fiery red hair out by the roots; the taciturn computer genius was volubly cursing in choice unicode; the avuncular caterer was scowling from behind an untouched tray of mephistophelian baklava that everyone, usually, would rather bleed out for, fingerless, than quickly fetching a ‚band-aid‘ from Jericho first — and the boss Himself … who was as kind, queer and collected as Jericho was hot, empathic and straight, whose … 

… queerer, actually, were one to compare and contrast … (No effing way. I should know. And by the by, I can hear you just fine from in here.) Way. … whose habitual mien lay somewhere between that of a boddhisatva and an ice-pick — that one had at present morphed into one enormous, black bristle, stomping, huffing and puffing the whole carved-from-solid-rock place down. 

Better them than me, Jericho decided. This minute, I’d rather be right here: in a sticky little love nest, pressed up against a sweet kid who has a hard-on for me that I can’t help him with. 

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