Russo, and I’ll do it,’ said Anthony further expressing his emotions with his hands, as do most Italians. ‘Who do you want me to—’ ‘Nah, n...thin’ like that. Calm down Tony,’ he said looking at him. ‘May I call you Tony? Anthony sounds too formal like something I’d call my little nephew when he was receiving his first Holy Communion or what I’d call Anthony to come home for supper when it was Prince Spaghetti night on Wednesday.’ He turned to his associates. ‘Do you remember that commercial?. And if you make me into a liar, I'll gag your slut mouth and paddle your balls until you cry.”* * * * *Time lost all meaning in the twilight zone of Hecate Heights. Life on the mountain entered a continuous cycle of writing and ever kinkier BDSM. The days blended together and Jack no longer had any idea what time of day he would be awake, let alone when he would be writing and when he would be sequestered in the dungeon.Wendy's fetish clothing, or lack thereof, shifted often, while Jack's. More

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