Through a strange forest in a residential area appeared Lily Fawn’s house, my associate and I curved our way through a small path. Next to an abandoned shack her delightful home was that from a demented fairytale. Pleasant on the eyes, yet inside possibly lurked a gingerbread witch. The door opened and a white rabbit jumped out of a shopping cart to greet us with its red eyes. After it had inspected us and no doubt gathered DNA evidence for later studies we plundered into the main house. We stepped into the 50’s with all its patterned comforts and ceramic deer. A wood stove, cake holders with goodies in them, pictures of woodland creatures, strange old instruments, and warm lighting surrounded us as Miss Fawn hopped around in a little brown dress and bloomers. She is from a scary old fairytale book, one day I think she just had enough and escaped into the real world to inflict her child-like voice and lullabys on to the unsuspecting planet. Adorable yet deadly, I could tell this from her antlers and how she spoke of her deer father whom was painted on to the wall. She showed me pictures of her goats and chickens then tried to feed us dead baby stew which she claimed was delicious. Eventually we clammered around and took photographic evidence of this strange girl posing beneath red curtained stages and lounging on her pattered red bed from another time. All her soap was natural and she had made it herself. Later that evening we met up with her partner in crime as mine had departed and he was known as Hank Pine. A forest creature like herself he wore an all white seemingly medical outfit, a white cowboy hat, goggles and dirty panty house over the rest of his face. He also seemed to glow green where his heart could be, whenever he needed light. Lily was now all white, in a movie star dress from the 1920’s and bore a saw on her back. At one point she stopped driving her little minivan (to no doubt go unnoticed around the humans), and ran towards a garbage dumpster screaming that if she wished hard enough there might be a magical sachel for her saw in it. Later we arrived at a dark park with hundreds of glowing lanterns and faceless people. We gloomed around with a manservant who showed us the way with his hunchbacked trottle and lantern. Lily found herself a drunk mermaid who smelled like vomit playing the accordion and singing for everyone. They made some spooky music together, Lily on the saw and we ran away to watch Hank murder a giant spider with his invisible gun. Many festive whales were also murdered throughout the night and gun fights were had on garbage cans. Somehow we came to this weird party in an art gallery with burly drag queens and artsy people with fans all dancing to music that seemed to accost my ears. The lights in this place made everyone look like they had fishnets on their faces, rainbow fishnets of death mind you. I met a girl who plays cello who was some form of feline creature with whiskey, she was lovely. Outside they all started to make music and have a sing along, then moved it upstairs when it was after hours. They played a luscious private show for about 10 of us who were still there. We went back to Lily’s home and she told me to come into the cellar with her. I obliged as this woodland creature had not done me wrong yet, and just as I walked into this little room the door slammed shut! She turned out all the lights in a split second and it was pitch black! A screech came from her, “I’ve got you now!” followed by a maniacal laugh.

I woke up blurry. I focused on the wall. An evil deer. I looked around more, more evil deer. The scent in the air, chemical yet experimental. Perhaps strong wood glue. The blankets had some weird residue on them that rubbed off on me and made me feel like rubber. On the floor were many juice bottles half filled with some form of juice. I am not to say if the liquid in them was the original juice or perhaps urine and cream soda. I am not to say. Nor do I urge any of you to find out, it is dangerous territory in the dungeon of Lily Fawn. I escaped however, in a fury, and I am thankful I am alive to tell the tale, but who knows what she did to me when I was unconscious.