Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


September 28th 2017 in Microfiction

She arrived and greeted the others warmly; there was a buzz of excitement in the air. Smiling sweetly, she stepped out of her dress (standing in her light pink slip and sparkly hose in front of the group with no self-consciousness whatsoever) and placed the things she carried on a side table. “Ready?” She nodded “yes” to the question as the other stepped forward (in a black camisole, ruffled pantaloons, and striped tights). So much had happened recently that it was tempting to apologize for all of the trouble and the deaths besides, but she held her tongue. “You know the rules,” the referee said, and they both nodded. The Witch of the North stepped forward, cracking her knuckles. “We’ll work it all out and then we’ll let it go,” Glinda thought to herself. “That’s the best part of Fight Club.”

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