"AH, gentlemen, what's this? An eye-eater? I've a cure for that!" And the crone reached clear through Jones's bones and pulled out his throbbing article. It were black and tar-covered, much like the marshmallow you leave in the fire five seconds too long.

This she ate, promptly, commenting wantonly that it were a tad sweet for her liking.

Then, in its stead, she did embed a big red healthy glowing heart of happiness and love, with ventricles like a cherub's bottom.