Evil Edie’s Surprise Demise

Edith Evilez passed in terror and fright on the night of October 31.  The year is yet to be determined according to one of three profane calendars she might have followed.  She is survived by her faithful, long-suffering and slightly malnourished assistant, her beloved pet hornet, and the partially sentient carnivorous pitcher plant that resides in her otherwise fetid greenhouse.  Sometimes joined forces with Natalia Nogud and Ralph Rotneg.  Gave stingily of her time and talent to the Society of Whisper-mongers.  Was awarded the dishonor of the Pale Medallion for her work with wandering spirits.  Served a partial term as a junior board member for the Pocket Goblin Company.  Held certifications in dental assisting, equine communications, and eyebrow threading.  Known for her collection of historical thimbles.  Her last words, as recorded by aforementioned faithful assistant were, “Perhaps today, Satan.” Edith will be begrudgingly remembered by acquaintances and enemies for her stalwart efforts at frightening children, trodding upon the downtrodden, and the surprisingly delicate madeleines she baked for the summer block party every year.  Edith will be missed by no one.  Her passing being celebrated by all those who value dignity, humanity, and goodness. 

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Glass Guitar Girl

Zia had a singular passion, and she believed, a destiny, to play guitar. She began playing when she was twelve years old. She’d asked for a guitar for her birthday, hoping for an electric. Her father bought her a steel-stringed acoustic instead. Seven years later, she bought herself a blue electric guitar and named it Duke. Zia was a talented guitarist, but her talent didn’t hold a candle to that of her friend Edie, whose instrument of choice was the fiddle. Thick as thieves, peas in a pod, cosmic sisters were they, even after one of them sold her soul to the Devil.

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