122.
    Vivian’s face began to warp and bend. A pair of antennae jutted out of its head. Its arms folded inward, its fingers turned into barbed swords. Another pair of legs sprouted out of its body and wings grew out of its shoulders. “But Vivian is not going to let you and your fat friend get away with it, Miss Thing! There have always been curious little bitches like you full of pinheaded hope! You are always oozing saintly love and empathy for the oppressed and downtrodden and your fate has always been the same!” It clasped its pincher arms together. “Come, let us pray. Dear Lord, take these two bitches into your loving arms and throw them to the devil! Rip their ungrateful souls into shreds and toss them into the howling depths of hell! Stomp these unpatriotic whores into dust! Burn away their meddling curiosity with the fires of truth, justice and the American Way!”

   Vivian rose up to its true height and spread its claws over our heads. “Oh, look, two more headless Catamites.”
   Conrad jumped out of the way of the snapping pinchers and threw himself at one of Vivian’s legs. I grabbed another. Vivian cursed and spat, slamming its claws on the deck as it tried to keep its balance. We ducked and dodged. With all our strength we twisted its legs out from under it. Vivian hit the ship’s rail. With a look of startled alarm, it fell back and somersaulted off the deck.