The Devil showed up with a grin so wide, challenging me to a duel with goading pride. I pulled out four strings that danced and did twiddle, but when I played my song, he said, Boy, that’s a!

A witch, a barista, and an alchemist walk into a bar. The bartender rolls his eyes. For these four share an essential skill. What for are these four known for?

When your plans or your hands turn to dust. When you knock down a door with a thrust. An object of lust, impolite to discuss, This place to hang pearls when men. . .

I’m toe-tally elusive, a sole survivor, they say. I leave big impressions, then sneakily walk away. Caught blurry on cam, I ghost the frame, yet folks still chase my giant name.

I’m rational, and out of all the things that we are, the one before me is scared of me for what I ate.