"This perturbed the creature considerably," remembered Sanderon. "It yelled at us in language that was as purple as the creature itself was."
"'Foul cloot-sack! Sack-washers! Tacky-wives! Choke the murder, you cunthexes! Rot up! Walk to the pump, boor-lump and boor-cathies! I mean you, you licked-off canker-whore and one clootless acorn."
Sanderon shrugged. "I still have yet to figure out the meaning and origin of some of those words. Life is so short... there's always more to do than you have time for. What else did she say? Oh yeah, 'Get crabbed, you fat sow, old pie and you blond-tressed weenie rosewater!'"

Kel sat up. "This faerie... was she tall, human-looking and haughty?"

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