And the council doesn’t recognize any kind of temporary insanity defense. Which was a real shame, because most of the councilmen had considered me crazy for most of my life.

This would be so much easier if they actually issued black hoods.

Wonderful, a death match on my first day behind bars. Some girls have all the luck

What if I was the sexual equivalent of popcorn? Suitable for light snacking only?

Uh, yeah, I do. The scythe was a little tricky at first, but—much like golf—turns out it’s all in the swing.

My shirt got torn in a fight. Yours evidently has a fast-release tab.

But I had no plans to end my own life, and accidents couldn't be predicted. Neither could murder, unless my aunt and uncle were planning to take me out themselves.