DOCTOR FILTH
Everything is fleeing the stove, and the patter of
feet can be heard. Do you too wish to run off?
Miraculous poses like I've not seen before, are
stretched out like a public man's wares : all those
pots and the pans, the rags and the wagons - the
elixirs and potions for magic relief. I hear a horse
whinny as it patiently waits for another Doctor
Filth to get going. Run off, my little man, this
day is done with you. Run off, and get away.
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