[The Artistry Encouragement Agency.]

_Quinn's muse was concerned. Not by his prosaic violence in the FanWar thread; and not by his lamentable tendency to switch tenses; but by Phaedrus' superior haiku output. With the Miho (Verse) thread stalled, _Quinn had no chance to become the Schwing... and _Quinn's muse had no chance at promotion. Something had to be done... her client's strength was free verse, a perfect foil for haiku, but perhaps... indeed, in the style of the methane-propelled 'zilla, something else was needed. She rubbed her hands together gleefully -- and checking to make sure _Quinn's CEA caseworker was busy -- set to work in his brain.

from The Book of Dead Wombats

"It is this author's greatest pleasure
to pound dead wombats, stretch and measure:
for a fine stew they make,
and a great pie they bake,
and with sauce, they're truly a treasure."

-- Introductions, 1:1

"To really enjoy a wombat for three,
avoid cheeses, especially brie:
the only thing rotten
should be wombat, ill-gotten,
cooked on leaves from a well-oiled tree."

-- Admonitions, 2:3

_Quinn's muse looked up from her work at the sudden arrival of the CEA caseworker, who spoke disapprovingly: "Shoo. He has work to do."


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