"Man Bites Dog" 42-page book made of fur, teeth, skin and bones Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens
story so far: 14 wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger. But the badger is too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a stone. In the burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a badger ambrosia of the grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep. Hours later, the badger is awakened by the noise of wood against stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The wolverines have surrounded the stone and are chanting an incantation. The badger doesn't breathe, not a whisker moves. 1 It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave yapping set apart the party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhed and chased and spurned the undergrowth around the latest beige badger silting. In the brave distance behove the strange and incandescent foreshadows of wolverines and greenish melon lights upon the substantial forest fare. Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp and muttered - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I scents wolverines. Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in this lackadaisical pre-momentary of the word fandango.
