Like 10,000 unfortunate creatures before him, R.C. Krug's last words, uttered before a tortuous demise, were "What's the Delvecchio Fulcrum." Now a rotting corpse, leaking and spurting various bodily fluids, R.C. a victim of life's miserable sense of humor. The celestial navigators needed to work fast. One of those higher beings grabbed the end of the fulcrum....another yelled "Delvecchio!," and the third hollered "Pull!" The fulcrum now yanked loose from the late Krug's cranium, the beings departed with the blood-soaked curious device. As the sirens from the approaching sheriff's department cruisers neared, Delvecchio's Fulcrum returns to it's proper astral dimension.
My book of horror poetry can be found on Amazon.com, as well as the Amazon Kindle edition.
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