They have burned books before. Blood Tits is the one so hot, it'll catch fire on its own. A face-melting barrage of extreme porn and ultraviolence that'll catapult Humanity to new echelons of self-comprehension and heal a broken world. The only summary that can do it justice is summary execution. Recipes inside.
"Beneath boiling skies of red, Lucien Thorne at last obtained a clear view of his adversary. She radiated infernal majesty. Blood covered every part of her body, dripping from her moist funbags and ham-hams."
"Every part but her eyes, where in the white there glowed the red irises of an albino rabbit."
"She smiled."
Cruora. In a world askance to ours, she rules an empire of gore. Reading Robert W. Chambers' 1895 work The King in Yellow inspired her to create her own stage show:
B L O O D T I T S
A Burlesque Metal Öpera in 6.66 Parts
Her costume in this stage-bloodsoaked sexxxtravanganza is that she wears nothing but blood. In the interests of modesty, however, it is a lot of blood. There's also Lucien Thorne. A man so driven, he owns a leather trenchcoat with a swallowtail cutout that lets you see his ass, but is too poor to buy a shirt. He is a drawing brought to life by the death wish of a child. His quest? To end the world's pain. They make out and kill God.
Blood Tits is a novel published in instalments. What you get with this, the first installment, is 8729 words of the wildest freak shit to ever sear itself into your brain-until the next instalment.
"A landmark work of novelistic ambition." -The Journal of Important Literature
"The next Homestuck." -News City News
"Beneath boiling skies of red, Lucien Thorne at last obtained a clear view of his adversary. She radiated infernal majesty. Blood covered every part of her body, dripping from her moist funbags and ham-hams."
"Every part but her eyes, where in the white there glowed the red irises of an albino rabbit."
"She smiled."
Cruora. In a world askance to ours, she rules an empire of gore. Reading Robert W. Chambers' 1895 work The King in Yellow inspired her to create her own stage show:
B L O O D T I T S
A Burlesque Metal Öpera in 6.66 Parts
Her costume in this stage-bloodsoaked sexxxtravanganza is that she wears nothing but blood. In the interests of modesty, however, it is a lot of blood. There's also Lucien Thorne. A man so driven, he owns a leather trenchcoat with a swallowtail cutout that lets you see his ass, but is too poor to buy a shirt. He is a drawing brought to life by the death wish of a child. His quest? To end the world's pain. They make out and kill God.
Blood Tits is a novel published in instalments. What you get with this, the first installment, is 8729 words of the wildest freak shit to ever sear itself into your brain-until the next instalment.
"A landmark work of novelistic ambition." -The Journal of Important Literature
"The next Homestuck." -News City News
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