“You’re awake. Good. Wondering why you’re here? Stop whimpering. Well, dear boy, you’ve been my editor for many years. Sorry - was that too many words for you? Curious why you’re naked, tied to a chair, your skin a patchwork of ink and blood? You didn’t know I was in earshot. I heard everything: ‘Another bloated horror novel from the king of verbosity, every other word needs cutting’ Well, there they are—all 227,000 of my blood-sweated beauties etched into your flesh.”
The author leans in, scalpel glinting in the candlelight. “Let’s begin by cutting out some adjectives, shall we?”
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