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Still in shock from what she thought was going to be the last few minutes of her life, Esther stared at her assailant with suspicion.
Despite the fact that he was keeled over with stage fright, he was nonetheless an RLS, his torso twice the size of her body, and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him.
She debated whether or not she should make a run for it, but her compassion got the better of her. When she realized the RLS, far from smacking his lips, was in fact shaking and whimpering, she decided to help.
Tiptoeing forward, Esther reached out a hand to comfort the poor little guy.
Ope, nope.
She couldn’t bring herself to touch him. She didn’t really like touching normal-sized salamanders either.
Instead, she cleared her throat.
Realizing that his audience was getting ready to review his work, the RLS scampered to his feet. The effect was terrifying, and in the instant it took to right himself and aim his gleaming opal eyes toward his theater critic, Esther regretted her decision, and made a break for it.
Sprinting away from the RLS made her feel free, alive, and safe. However, it broke the RLS’s heart. He incorrectly assumed she had hated his performance.
He had had self-esteem issues since he was a child—this sort of thing had happened often. Not one single person had ever explained to an RLS that they weren’t bad at reciting Shakespeare—they were simply categorically terrifying. As a result, every single RLS that ever existed had an unrealized life-long dream to be in a production of Shakespeare. and every single one of them assumed it was because they were a terrible actor.
It was all rather tragic, and could’ve been easily solved, had one single person ever bothered to stop screaming and running long enough to just hear the RLS out.
But alas. Humans are rather reactionary, and rarely listen to other people. And so, the vicious cycle continued.
Until today.
This particular RLS had done his research. He knew that the governor of the realm was in charge of justice. Considering the spot-on rendition of Hamlet he had just given, having his audience scream and run in terror was a rather unforgivable slight.
It wouldn’t stand. He had a right to an honest critique of his work.
Dusting himself off, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket (all RLSs have cell phones and wear pants), set a course for the castle, and headed off to find the governor of the realm, and seek justice.
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Blurb: Have you ever had an incredible business idea?295Please respect copyright.PENANA8a9fZs5bdF
Have you ever been told it was "frowned upon"--or even illegal?295Please respect copyright.PENANAfLh5ComA3x
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...have you ever done it anyway?295Please respect copyright.PENANAA2CRqNqQME
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Meet Dante: A savvy Italian who could sell ice to an Eskimo. Most recently, he's come up with an idea that's sure to be the pinnacle of his entrepreneurial designs: a high-end assisted-suicide service specializing in medieval execution procedures. Having market-tested the concept, he needs a partner.295Please respect copyright.PENANAJLOnk2eRHo
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Meet Gonzo: A pudgy Polish washout working at his family's mechanic shop, though he yearns to be a part of something greater. He and Dante were college roommates, and he's very familiar with the risk involved if he becomes a part of the latest get-rich-quick scheme.295Please respect copyright.PENANAWNSDU7Zufs
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Meet Michiko: Gonzo's chic, secretive ex, with unlimited connections, a penchant for power, and a vindictive streak.295Please respect copyright.PENANAaqtn9uYOsd
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When circumstances force Gonzo to partner with Dante, a whole new world of opportunity and unexpected challenges opens. Is their business even legal? Will they be able to find (and hold) a secretary? Will their unseemly activities capture the attention of local authorities--who just so happen to be led by Michiko?295Please respect copyright.PENANAgSp0BSpWJu
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Death By Guillotine is an unhinged Dahlian adventure through the pitfalls of selling controversy, the paradoxes of social approval and the justice system, and how wild and crazy life can be when you swing it by the horns as you shoot from the hip.


