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November 14, 2023 was the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

NEVER FORGET:

My Son Was Murdered, The Killer Walks Free, Your Child Could Be Next!

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FAQ: What are the most visited pages on this website and how many visits do they get?

Several years ago, I wrote an article on how to write different types of magic uses, or rather how I personally write various types of magic users within the context of my Quaraun books. Today that page is one of my top ten most visited articles. It gets 50 to 500 views/reads/hits/visits per day depending on the time of the years and has had over 200k visits total since it was published.

Amphibious Aliens: Debunking The Atwater Family's Alien Abduction Hoax with more then 30MILLION reads since 2007 and The GoldenEagle: Debunking Stephen King's World's Most Haunted Car Hoax with over tenMILLION reads since 2007 still rank as the two most visited articles on my website, but, neither of those are writing related.

Writing Medieval Servants is my most visited writing related article with over 7MILLION reads.

The most requested, but apparently not so easy to find writing article is EelKat's Park Bench Method To Writing (you have to scroll half way down the page to find it. It's after the list of writing prompts). The name of the page is NOT "EelKat's Park Bench Method of Writing" which is why you guys have so much trouble finding it, LOL!)

This website was started in 1996 and has 1 to 3 new articles (all written by me, I am the only writer on this site) published almost daily. In 2017 we crossed ten thousand articles published. As of 2023, EACH article gets MINIMUM 10 to 70 reads PER DAY, with the high traffic articles getting 500+ reads per day.

And since December 2019, my website now gets three hundred thousand to 7 million reads per month - well over ONE HUNDRED MILLION PAGE READS PER YEAR, making it not only the single most trafficked site in the State of Maine, but also one of the most visited websites in ALL OF NEW ENGLAND!

{{{HUGS}}} Thank you to all my readers for making this possible!

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 TRIGGERED! I'm a Straight Cis Woman, but I am deemed Too Gay For Old Orchard Beach, Are you too gay for the bigoted, minority harassing, white power, gay hating psychos of The Old Orchard Beach Town Hall Too? 

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Quaraun The Insane: Volume 9 or 21
The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears

The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears: Chapter 1

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Home / Quaraun The Insane (Bizarre Yaoi Fantasy Novels) | Free Sample Chapters To Read Online / The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears: Chapter 1 BatDude & Pigeon Poop Boy

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The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears
Free Sample Excerpt From The Novel

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The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears
Chapter 1

We interrupt our regularly scheduled story to bring you: BATDUDE!

Our story begins in the 1960s, somewhere in America. No one is really sure where, though according to one H.P.Lovecraft Arkam Asylum was in Massachusetts, and presumably, BatDude and PigeonPoopBoy had escaped them there, claiming to be off to save the world from the Dastardly green haired Jiggler, a critic hating author, whom had just published a novel about teddy bears, and was currently pacing through his mansion, wearing nothing but a purple sequined g-string and bemoaning the 52 negative reviews his book had received.

"Holy Gourda, BatDude, what is it?" 

"I don't know, Pigeon Poop Boy, but I think it's a teddy bear."

"Batdude, you don't mean to say The Jiggler is animating teddy bears for minions now do you?"

"I'm afraid that's what it looks like Pigeon Poop Boy."

"Holy hand grenades, BatDude what was that!"

"It's was a book bomb, Pigeon Poop Boy. That teddy bear thinks we're literary critics!"

BatDude was a human, a man in a black and purple leather bird costume. His companion Pigeon Poop Boy was also human. He was wearing a blue leotard with grey feathers glued to it.  

~o0o~

Meanwhile...back in the 1400s, where we were supposed to be to begin with...in a quiet Human village on the outskirts of Quebec... a tired transvestite Elf wearing a pink sequined ball gown, wrapped in a pink turkey feather boa, and travelling with two undead Faeries, one a vampire leprechaun and the other a Lich Phooka, had decided to rest for the night at a small tavern. The trio of non-Humans found a secluded booth in the back of the building and tried not to draw attention to themselves. This however, did not last long, as the bored and hyperactive Phooka, began teasing the tired, and cranky Elf.... 

~o0o~ 

"STOP IT!" Quaraun screamed, as he pulled away from Unicorn and kicked the Phooka in the face, sending the Phooka, and the table he'd been sitting under, flying across the room. FarDarrig sat, holding his drink, and wishing he'd also been holding his bottle, as it was now shattered on the floor along with their meals.

"Did you really have to do that," FarDarrig ask the angry Elf.

"I don't want him doing that in public," Quaraun snarled, as he sunk back into the bench seat and closed his eyes.

"Yis in the back booth of a seedy tavern, slunk away in a dark corner," FarDarrig answered. "I don't think any one was gonna notice or care if ya let him suck you off in public or not."

Quaraun opened one eye and glared at the Leprechaun.

"You make me get my wand out and I'm gonna blow you up in so many pieces, Unicorn won't be able to rebuild you."

"There's nothing worse then a bitchy, whinny assed Necromancer," the undead Leprechaun muttered.

"Not when you're undead, and both of you are," Quaraun answered.

Quaraun closed his eye again.

Unicorn stood up, with both hands over his nose.

"You okay?" FarDarrig asked the Phooka.

"I t'inks him done gone broke me nose," Unicorn said.

"I thought you were a Lich?"

"I is a Lich."

"Then how can you suffer from a broken anything?"

"Just because I does resurrect every time him lose him temper un kills me, does no mean I does no gets hurt. How ya t'inks I can die so often? I is Lich, aye. All that means is no matter how many times ya kills me, I always get back up. I does no stay dead. I can still get hurtified. I can still bleeds. Look! I is bleeding now! I can still has broken bones in me body. How ya t'inks I die iffy I does no get hurt?"

Unicorn picked up the table and tossed it back in it's proper place that sat down on top of it, cross legged and staring intently at Quaraun, who still had his eyes closed and was trying to ignore everything going on around him so he could get some much needed sleep.

Quaraun sensed Unicorn's gaze opened his eyes once again and stared at the undead creature, sitting on the table staring down at him.

"What are you doing?" the sleepy Moon Elf asked.

"I is waiting for ya to falls to sleep sos I can rape ya."

"Of course you are. Why didn't I think of that?"

Quaraun sat back up straight and called a bar maid to bring him more wine.

"I shall drug it," Unicorn said.

"Here! Be my guest."

Quaraun handed his mug to the Phooka.

"I could use some colour in my life," he continued. "This place is dull and dreary."

"You know," FarDarrig said. "A stranger would think you two hated each other."

"Meaning?" Quaraun asked.

"Meaning you just kicked him in the face and now he's sitting there happily pouring whatever the hell that is, into your wine."

Quaraun looked from FarDarrig back to Unicorn and watched the Faerie dumping white powder into his drink. The Phooka handed the mug back to the Elf. Quaraun stared at it for a moment, looked back up at Unicorn, then took the mug and drank it's contents.

"I don't seem to care," Quaraun said to FarDarrig as he put the mug back on the table.

"I can't believe you just drank that."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"He's a Phooka, you have any idea what kind of side effects Phookan drugs have on Elves?"

"Of course I do. I live with him. He drugs me all the time. I'm used to it."

"It really doesn't bother you?"

"I just told you I don't care."

"Why not?"

"Have you ever seen how big his cock is?"

"Measuring his cock wasn't something I ever planned to do, no."

"And he has two of them."

"Two?"

"He doesn't brag to being a double dicked unicorn for nothing."

"Why does he have two dicks?" FarDarrig turned to Unicorn. "Why do you have two dicks? You didn't used to have two dicks."

Unicorn pointed to Quaraun.

"He did it. Him evil wizard wid sick mind. Him one day make wish I could double stuff him. I now have two dicks. Him did grant him own wish. Though I is no complaining. Me does like having two dicks. One for each hand, when they is not in him."

"Why are we talking about dicks?" FarDarrig asked.

"Because," Quaraun answered. "You wanted to know why I let him drug me. He's horny out of his mind right now. Only getting hornier by the minute. I ain't got no strength in me. I'm weak, I'm tired. I can't fight him off, when I'm awake and good health. Sooner or later, prob'ly within the next few minutes, both his dicks are going to be in me, and I'd rather not be able to feel the pain when he does it."

"He's about to rape you and you're about to let him."

"He doesn't rape me, FarDarrig. He never does. He never has."

"No?"

"No."

"That's not what I'm hearing."

"Well then, you ain't listening."

"I am. I'm listening to a weak, sick, tired, injured Elf complaining that he wants to sleep and he knows he's going get ass fucked the moment he tries to, so he's taking drugs beforehand sos it won't hurt as much when it happens. That doesn't sound like you being a willing participant in his fucking you, and that therefore is rape."

"It's not rape."

"How do you come to that conclusion?"

"Because if I really didn't want it happening, I would unLichify him and drop his rotted corpse off in the nearest graveyard. I never said he couldn't fuck me, I like it when he fucks me, he fucks me every damned day. I just said I didn't want it to hurt when it happened. He's more then welcome to take whatever pleasure he wants out of me, I'd just like to not feel like I'm being split in half while he does it. He's not exactly gentle. He does tend to just dive into me like an axe splitting a log. Then he just keeps right on pounding into me. And he doesn't stop when I pass out. I wouldn't be at all surprised if when I finally died, I die from him fucking me to death....WHAT?"

Quaraun stopped talking to glare at the bar maid who was standing, jaw dropped listening to what he'd been saying.

"Uhm...I..." the girl didn't know what to say. She was still trying to comprehend how it was one male could fuck another male.

"I pay you to bring me food and drink," Quaraun snarled at her. "Not eavesdrop on my private conversations."

"Uhm..." 

The girl was staring wide eyed at the Elf. It was scary enough for her to have to serve non-Humans. She and the other girls had drawn straws to see who it was would have to wait on the Elf and his two Fae friends. She'd gotten the short end of the stick and was none too pleased. Elves were practically extinct, Faeries were seen so rarely that most people joked they were never real to begin with. No one in the village had ever seen a non-Human before and so half the village was in the tavern just now, trying to get a glimpse of the strange trio resting here. Two of the three being wizards didn't help the issue any, not when the Guild had a nasty habit of killing every resident of every village that opened it's doors to wizards, and worse then just wizards was Necromancers, and here was not just any Necromancer, but the dreaded Pink Necromancer himself, and everyone knew the Pink Necromancer traveller with a Lich, the fierce Elf Eater of Pepper Valley himself, an undead creature that laid waste to any village who refused to let him in. Here was the Pink Necromancer and the Elf Eater, both standing inches in front of her, arguing about their sex lives, and the poor girl was having all she could do not to have a heart attack just then. 

Quaraun rammed his finger onto the center of the table.

"Put my food on the table and leave," he ordered. "Go back to what ever the hell it is you Humans do."

The girl quickly tossed the platter on the table beside Unicorn, then scurried away, back to the bar where the other girls were gathered, whispering about the arrival of the dreaded Pink Necromancer in their town.

"Humans," Quaraun muttered to himself in the most disgusted tone he could muster. "Scum of the Earth. Nothing but a parasitic plague of over sized lice. Why must we be forced to exist along side such filth?"

"Ya know," Unicorn pointed out. "If ya would fuck a few females once in a while, Elves would no be dying out so fast."

"And where do you suggest I find a female Elf to fuck? I'm the last damned Moon Elf on the planet, or have you forgotten that?"

"Plenty of females here for ya to fuck," Unicorn said, pointing to the bar maids and not looking at Quaraun.

FarDarrig grabbed all the bottles off the table, slunk down out of his chair and went to the next table.

"What?" Unicorn asked FarDarrig, still not paying attention to Quaraun. He looked around the room. The Humans were all squished back against the wall, staring in his direction in terror.

Unicorn turned back to Quaraun. "Ohhh."

Quaraun was now standing up, one hand one the table, the other gripping his Rainbow Wand pointed inches from Unicorn's nose, blazing fury of pure hatred raging through his eyes. Small sparks of lightening zapped from the wand, and shimmered over Quaraun making any eerie glowing blow aura around him.

"How... dare... you suggest I consort with HUMANS!" The angry Necromancer roared. "There's too many of them as it is, without my helping to create even more of them. The last thing this world needs is Half Elf mongrels running in it! There's already too many Elves ploughing their seed in the wretches scum of Human filth!"

"Weeell," Unicorn said, sliding back away from the aim of the Necromancer's wand. "Maybe ya should had thunk of that before losing ya temper an killin' every one in ya village. Then ya'd still have yarself so pure blood Moon Elf bitches to fuck."

"They deserved to die and you know it."

"Does I?" Unicorn carefully reached over and pulled the wand out of Quaraun's hand, and tried shaking it to turn it off.

"They killed YOU."

"I commit suicide, Quaraun. Ya used it as an excise to kill every one who every pissed ya off."

"You died."

"And ya did gone an resurrect me. Now I's a Lich. How do ya turns this t'ing off?"

Quaraun sighed and sat back down. He watched Unicorn fumble with the wand. 

"Gimie that, before you blow this whole town up."

Quaraun grabbed the wand and stuffed it back in his pink beaded heart shaped bag of holding. Then he looked around at the crowd of a dozen or so Humans that were gathered around their table.

"Oh go jump off a cliff," Quaraun growled to them. 

None of them moved. Most of them looked too scared to move.

"I t'ink they is ready to shit their pants," Unicorn laughed.

"Can't say as I blame 'em," FarDarrig said from the other table. "Got a high strung Necromancer over there."

"Why are you staring at me?" Quaraun asked the nearest Human.

"Your ears..." the man said.

Quaraun twitched his foot long ears, causing the many silver rings and chains, connecting from them to his nose, to tinkle.

"What is wrong with my ears?"

"Well, I always heard Elves had pointy ears, but..."

"But what?"

"Begging ya pardon, sir, but you look like a rabbit. And you're white as a ghost. Milk isn't as white as you. And your hair..."

"You don't like my hair?"

"There ain't no women never had hair as long as yours. You're like that woman what got herself locked in the tower."

"Rapunzel?"

"That's the one."

"Always is."

"Do all Elves dress like you?"

"No," Quaraun said sarcastically. "I'm pretending to be a prostitute."

"Oooh, I see." The man nodded, not realizing Quaraun was making fun of his ignorance.

Quaraun laid his head on the table.

"Whhhhhy are Humans soooo stuuuuuupid?" He moaned into the tablecloth. He sat back up and turned to the Human. "I am a Wizard of the DiJinn Order. This is how we dress. I'm a priest. These are the robes of our order. Do you know nothing of the DiJinn?"

"Genies are those wish granting wizards ain't they? Grant wishes for people. Like how you gave him two dicks, right?" The Human answered brightly, proud of the fact that he knew what the wizard was talking about, while pointing to Unicorn.

Quaraun turned to Unicorn.

"Why did I give you two dicks?"

"Ya was drunk," Unicorn said. "And high on poppies. And wanted a horse's dick stuffed up ya ass. Twice. At the same time."

"You know I don't remember any of that, right?"

"I knows. Sooner or later I'lls figure a way to get me horn up their same time as both me dicks."

Quaraun was about to yell at the Phooka but a Human interrupted him.

"Can I touch your ears," the Human asked, growing bolder as he took a few steps closer to Quaraun.

"NO!" The Elf shouted, causing all the Humans to jump back.

He stood there looking around the room at them.

"Have you really never seen an Elf before? None of you?"

They all shook their heads and muttered various version of "no".

Quaraun shook his head sadly.

"There used to be a time when people were surprised to see a Moon Elf, now every one is surprised just to see an Elf at all, of any type. What is the world coming to?"

"I tolds ya," Unicorn said. "Ya gotta give up on yar purity t'ing. Gotta start fucking every female ya sees, whiles ya still young enough to get it up. Ain't many males Elves left. Ya don't start repopulating, there soon won't be no Elves at all. Yis an olde Elf and ya ain't getting no younger. There be a whole bevy of females right over there. This crowd so scared of Elves, ain't no one here gonna stop ya.  At this point even half Elves is better then no Elves."

Quaraun glared at Unicorn, but said nothing. He was feeling woozy just then. The drug Unicorn had dumped in his wine was starting to take effect.

Quaraun was trying to think of an answer to Unicorn, as well as think of a way to getting the crowd of Humans to go back to what they were doing allowing him and his friends to rest from their travels in peace, when the air around them was interrupted by an earth shattering

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27,706 / 50,000 words.
85/ 160 pages.
Draft @ 55.41%
Last updated on
March 13, 2015

KA-BOOOM!

A giant hole opened in the ceiling, the sky from another world could be seen over head.

Two masked Humans, one dressed as a bat, the other dressed as a bird, came tumbling out. Followed by two life sized teddy bears.

"Holy Gourda, BatDude, what is it?" Cried the young bird boy.

"I don't know, Pigeon Poop Boy," answered the bat. "But I think it's a teddy bear."

"Batdude, you don't mean to say The Jiggler is animating teddy bears for minions now do you?"

"I'm afraid that's what it looks like Pigeon Poop Boy."

"Holy hand grenades, BatDude what was that!"

"It's was a book bomb, Pigeon Poop Boy. That teddy bear thinks we're literary critics!"

BatDude was a human, a man in a black and purple leather bird costume. His companion Pigeon Poop Boy was also human. He was wearing a blue leotard with grey feathers glued to it. The two Humans from the future, dressed in bird costumes, ran around the tavern chasing the life sized teddy bears, that continued to tumble out of the portal.

Quaraun stared at the scene that was unfolding before him, as BatDude and PigeonPoopBoy rolled out of the blue sparking portal, into the tavern, battling a pair of g-string wearing teddy bears.

"What the hell did you put in my drink?" Quaraun asked Unicorn.

"Whatever it was, it didn't cause that," FarDarrig said. "Because I see it too."

"I give up," Quaraun said. "Where's my food. Humans are crazy. They're all crazy."

Quaraun reached for the platter the girl had left and set out to eating every thing on it and completely ignoring BatDude, PigeonPoopBoy and the giant animetronic teddy bears.

The conversation between the daringly dressed duo was eagerly watched by the black haired, black eyed, black clad Phooka, sitting in the corner with his friends, a transvestite albino Moon Elf dressed head to toe in pink sequins and a Vampire Leprechaun dressed in a brown leather outfit dyed with blood.

A small bomb went off on the other side of the tavern opposite where Quaraun, Unicorn, and FarDarrig were eating their dinner. Unicorn jumped nervously at the commotion, but Quaraun continued eating as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He had actively decided the entire thing was a hallucination and refused to acknowledge it was happening. FarDarrig was too busying pouring blood on his coat and rubbing it into the leather to notice anything that was going on at all.

"Quaraun?" Unicorn learned over and whispered into the Elf's ear. "There is a teddy bear named Freddy throwing bombs shaped like books at a couple of guys in bird suits. They all seemed to have just suddenly appeared there from out of no where."

Quaraun looked up and watched the three characters as they ran back and forth through the tavern, throwing things at one another.

"Yes, I had noticed." 

The pink clad Necromancer went back to eating.

"Should we help them?"

"No, they seem to be tearing the tavern apart just fine on their own."

"Ah. Yes. No. That's not quite what I meant."

"I know what you meant. But I don't particularly want to end up paying for the damages, and whenever we get involved in a tavern brawl, that does always seem to be what happens. Beside, I'd get my new dress dirty."

"Is that a new one?"

"Yes. It is." 

"I can never tell. All yar dresses look the same to me. I ain't never seen any pink cloth like this at any marketplace we visited, and can'na imagine where ya would have found a new dress." 

"Yes. It's new. I made it, while I was spending the last several weeks in bed, while the two of you stayed down stairs drinking and I was laid up in bed."

"Ya drinks just as much as we does."

"I drink because I'm in pain. You two are both undead. You ain't got no reason to drink."

"Ya does not approve of my drinking?"

"I don't approve of the belching contests you have with FarDarrig."

"Ah, well, let's put something in ya drink, then. Make ya feel happy and then I can fuck ya silly."

Unicorn dumped more powder in Quaraun's drink.

"Will you stop drugging my food!"

"Why? Ya knows ya gonna go ahead and drinks it anyways. Ya like the drugs as much as they likes ya, eh?"

"Yes." 

A teddy bear ran by, with two Humans in bird costumes chasing after it.

The blue boy stopped running and stared at Quaraun.

"Holy pink flamingos, BatDude, look at that dress that prostitute is wearing!"

"Can't look now, Pigeon Poop Boy, I got a teddy bear to catch." BatDude called out from across the room.

Quaraun watched BatDude and Pigeon Poop Boy as they chased the teddy bear.

"I'm not even high yet and I'm already seeing weird things." 

Quaraun took the second drugged drink and drank it without farther argument.

"I thought ya didna want me drugging ya drink?" Unicorn asked.

Quaraun opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get a chance to say anything.

"That is some pink dress," Pigeon Poop Boy yelled as they ran by again.

It was a very pink dress. And covered in big poufy pink marabou feathers. Quaraun loved pink. Pink was the only color he would wear. Every one of his dresses was bright bubblegum pink with magenta hearts embroidered and beaded onto it. Unicorn couldn't tell one dress from another.

FarDarrig, seeing that Quaraun had calmed down, toddled back over to the Elf's table.

“Where do ye keep gittin' thems ,eh?” FarDarrig asked. 

He had never seen anything like them anywhere either. Of course his preference was for blood oiled leather, not pink silk. 

"I'm a tailor in addition to being a wizard. I make them. And I did just say that. FarDarrig it's still morning. Are you already drunk?"

"Ah. Where do ye finds dah time , an between primpin' yous hair un' looking for trouble ,eh? "

Unicorn looked back and forth from the albino Elf with the bum length hair, wearing way too much garish make-up, and head to toe sparkling like a pink disco ball, sitting to his right, and the tiny four foot eight inch tall thousand year old undead Leprechaun in his leather trench coat, frock coat, waist coat, knee breeches and tall pointy hat all dyed a deep brownish red from blood, sitting to his left. Then he looked out at the two costumed Humans chasing teddy bears around the room.

"I feel positively normal today," Unicorn said. "All I be wearing is trapper furs."

Unicorn didn't look normal at all, but in his black furs and skins, he blended in better with the locals at least, even though the Phooka's waist length black hair didn't look like it had seen a brush in the last 700 years.

Unicorn picked his mug up off the table...

CRASH!

Their table shattered between them, as the Human wearing a blue unitard with grey feathers glued all over it, landed in their plates.

"Sorry, ma'am," Pigeon Poop Boy said hastily to Quaraun, as he scrambled back to his feet and ran back to help his friend battle the renegade teddy bear.

"Good thing I picked up me mug and good thing ya already drank ya poison." 

FarDarrig stared down at the shattered bottles on the floor, He had just put them back on the table.

"There is food on me," Quaraun said, his temper only thinly veiled.

"Oooooh! They got food on ya new dress," Unicorn sat still holding his mug, but looking somewhat horrified at the fact that Quaraun was about to lose his temper. 

"There is food in my hair," Quaraun sputtered.

"Aye."

"There is food on my pink Thullid silk."

"Aye."

"Who did that?"

"It were the teddy bear," Unicorn said.

Quaraun glared angry daggers at the teddy bear.

Unicorn repeated his question. "Ya want to help them now?" 

"Yes. I do."

Quaraun stood up, pulled out his wand, and aimed it at the teddy bear. 

"You got food on my dress, you frigging bastard! DIE!"

A blinding burst of blue light filled the room, followed by a loud POUF as the teddy bear exploded into a pile of fur and fluff.

Every Human in the room was once again pressed back against the farthest walls they could get to, all staring in terror at the angry wizard.

"We need a new a table and new meals," the albino transvestite Necromancer said the a barmaid as he strode over to the remains of the teddy bear.

"Holy guacamole, BatDude, that pink whore is a wizard!" Exclaimed the lad in the grey feathered, blue unitard.

Quaraun looked up at the daringly dressed duo. 

"I'm a Necromancer, and you two owe me and my companions dinner."

"Necromancer?" Said BatDude. "But you're wearing pink?"

"And you're wearing patent leather bat wings," retorted the whiter then white Moon Elf.

"You're a man, aren't you," BatDude asked the transvestite.

"I'm an Elf."

"But you're male?"

"Of course I am."

"Holy bull shit, BatDude, that dude's a dude!"

"I should feed you to my Unicorn," Quaraun snarled to Pigeon Poop Boy.

"Aren't Necromancers supposed to wear black and be all spooky, lurking in shadows and such?" asked BatDude. "...like your friend there, he looks like a necromancer, you look like a prostitute."

"He's a Lich. And you look like an S&M dominatrix. All you need is a whip."

"Well that's better then looking like a prostitute, isn't it?"

Quaraun sighed, rolled his eyes and stomped back over to the new table where Unicorn and FarDarrig were sitting waiting for him.

"Ya know," stated Unicorn as Quaraun sat down beside him. "If ya don't want people mistaking ya for a woman, ya shouldn't wear those pretty frilly, feathery pink dresses and all that tormy-loin jewelry...

"Tourmaline."

"...and makeup and earrings and nose rings and finger rings and go around batting those long fake feather eyelashes and sit around brushing yar sexy silky, silver hair for 3 hours every morning so it looks all slinky and shiny like that...and damn it, now I want to fucks ya again."

Quaraun glanced down at Unicorn's bulging cock. "You know, I have never meet anyone who gets as horny as you do, as often as you do."

"No, all I has to do is looks at ya, that's all it takes. I can'na think of anything more seductive then a man who looks like woman..."

"I'm an Elf."

"...who looks like a prostitute just waiting to get his tight little pearly white ass fucked twenty times a day."

"Don't you dare try to fuck me 20 times in one day. You'll kill me!"

"Pretty little man-Elf-woman-whore like ya, ya're already girly looking without even trying. Then ya go out of yar way to make yarself look like a slut, with thems tasty banana and kiwis swinging down there between yar creamy white legs. Ya's a lovely fruit salad."

"You have a fruit cake for a brain."

"And I is with ya all day long, so yeah, of course I freaking horny all day long. Why would I not be, I mean look at ya, yar sexy as a shepherd's pie. I want to eat ya.  I could just eat ya up right now. FarDarrig order me a shepherd's pie before I bite Quaraun and drain every last drop of blood out of his sexy little carcass."

"I think I should be scared of you," Quaraun said dryly.

The Elf Eater nodded. 

"Oh, ya should. Ya should. Ya is tasty. Ya should be absolutely terrified of me, what with all the things I can think of to do to ya. For instance, ya want to know what I'm thinking right now?"

"Not especially."

“I kin tells ye what he’s tinkin',” replied the mind reading vampire Leprechaun wearing a leather trenchcoat soaked in fresh blood.

"Please don't," said Quaraun.

FarDarrig ignored him and kept on talking: “He 'twould just love to tie ye down to dah table right here, right nows an' fuck ye an front of every body ovah an' ovah an' ovah again. Dat yon dair do be what he be tinkin' about ye right nows.” 

Quaraun glared at Unicorn. "Yeah, don't try that."

"Hey! I dids no say it, him did!" Phooka pointed at the short old man.

"No! But you’re the one thinking it, that’s how come he said it. You are NOT going to fuck me on a table in a tavern, in front of everybody!"

"Oh, no, I will na, not while ya still got that wand in yar hand, at least. Do'na want to look like that deady Freddy teddy bear over there. Though the things I can think of to do with that wand..."

"Ach gawd," complained FarDarrig. "Will ye quit tinkin'! Turn yer brain off or somethin'. Ye poor Álfr. The things he’s ah gonna do to ye if he evir gets ye unconscious.” 

"You mean with the wand? Yeah, he's already done that. A few times. I've kind of gotten used to waking up and not knowing what the hell he's done to me and wondering why my wand is shoved up my dick."

Unicorn was grinning and nodding. 

"Penis torture is wonderful and him loves it as much as I love doing it tos him."

"I pity you FarDarrig," Quaraun continued. "Having to see every thought that goes through his perverted head."

“Well, bad as he be, Quaraun . Yon stuff going on an Unicorn’s heid, it ’s nae half as wicked bad as some of dah thoughts dat yon dair go through yer head,” FarDarrig replied. “AH dinnae ’t knows hows AH bide with dah twa of ye, with out be'an tree sheets to dah wind 24 hours ah day. it ’s nay believable dah things dah two of ye tink aboots. Especially what yous be tinkin' about eetch uddah. AH ’ll tells ye ane thingy Gwallmaic, dinnae ’t ye go believing heem when he says ‘Nay ’ to ye. Yon Álfr ’s jeets as much of ah pervert as ye be. He be wanting ye to tie heem down to dah table an' fuck him right at dis point an time .”

Unicorn burst out laughing. "Oh, I know that! I did has been with him long enough to know what he wants."

Quaraun glared at FarDarrig and was about to say something, but was interrupted when BatDude and Pigeon Poop Boy both sat down at their table.

"I'm sorry," growled Quaraun. "Did I invited you to sit down?"

"No," answered BatDude. "But you did mention we owed you dinner and that's sort of the same thing."

"Ooooh, look, he wants to buy us dinner. How romantic," Unicorn crooned as he leaned over close to Quaraun and began rubbing his arm. "Ya think this table's big enough for them to bring out all the plates for all of us while I fuck ya on it at the same time?"

He reached under the table slipped his hand inside Quaraun's pink silk robes and began fondling the Elf's already erect cock.

"Is he..." BatDude started the ask Quaraun, while staring at the black eyed Faerie.

"Yes. He is. Ignore him," answered Quaraun.

"Are you ignoring him?"

"With great difficulty."

"Like hell yar are," FarDarrig said to Quaraun, then turned to BatDude. "Whatever ya what to say to him, say it fast. They is about 10 second from stripping each other naked, right here in front of every body."

The series was renumbered. This is no longer volume 9.

Volume 35: The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears

Joined once again by FarDarrig, Quaraun and Unicorn stop at a Human village to rest for the night, and find they can't get to the end of their meal without interruption. Three attempts to order dinner later, they are again interrupted, this time by a portal opening up and tossing a pair of caped crusader actors from a 1960s TV show and a very real pole dancing super villain, into their plates.

Before they get a chance to find out who the costumed super heroes are, armies of  murderous animatronic teddy bears start dropping from the sky spreading chaos throughout the village.

Seeing that they've somehow been zapped to the 1400s and landed in the plate of an angry Pink Necromancer, BatDude and Pigeon Poop Boy, quickly explain that a book critic has lashed out at a former super villain, turned pole dancing author, and in retaliation the super villain author has sent an army of teddy bears to kill all book review bloggers. The caped crusaders enlist in Quaraun's help to defeat the Jiggler before his teddy bears destroy the world.

Unfortunately (for the daring duo and book bloggers everywhere) Quaraun finds himself sexually attracted to the green haired, g-string wearing porn star and switches sides. With the teddy bears now joined by Quaraun's undead army of pink turkeys, Quebec is completely turned into utter chaos.

Jealous, Unicorn helps the masked crusaders get rid of the Jiggler, just so he can have Quaraun to himself again. To do so, the candy making Lich decides to fight fire with fire and turns himself into a pink flamingo then creates his own army of penis saluting, greatfully dead dancing rainbow gummy bears.

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Chapter 1: BatDude & Pigeon Poop Boy

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Teddy Bears On Parade

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A Bowl of Fruit Salad

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Flamingos, Tentacles, Tea, and Crumpets

Things You May Not Have Known About
The Jiggler & The G-String Teddy Bears

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As crazy as it may sound, this novel was actually based off a true story.

Once upon a time there was an author who wrote a detective murder mystery, which featured the main character as a teddy bear. Someone committed the sin of giving his novel a glowing 4-star review.

In a week long massive melt down that made self publishing history, the author created dozens of accounts, each one being a different teddy bear from his novel, and lashed out with his army of teddy bears at the book critic, for only giving him a measly little 4 star review instead of granting him the 5 star review he deserved.

I wrote this novel based entirely off his wild, deranged comments in the review, which you can read for yourself here.

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This novel was originally written on: 2013

This page last updated on: March 30, 2017

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On Writing The Quaraun Series

The Complete Index To Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Moon Elf Society, But Was Afraid To Ask;

or

The Zaharam-Chapelle-Parunas  Ethnographical World Building Questionnaire

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World-Building In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. Creating a 1400's Fantasy World For Time Traveling Wizards
2. How Your Degree Affects Your World Building
3. How would you explain your Fantasy world to a stranger?
4. In what order do you create your world?
5. Writing Maine: How To Write About Maine Life Accurately
6. The Cover Art Gallery 

Weird-Building In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. Why is there a kitchen sink in my pocket?
2. Twerking Dragons - The Joys Of Writing with A Voice Recorder
3. The Saco River Curse
4. What The Ocean Gives Me (How Things In Your Life Affect Your Writing)

Building A Magic System In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. Wizards vs Witches vs Sorcerers: How are they different?
2. Magic Systems and How to Build Them
   
3. Necromancy: How will resurrection affect society as a whole?
4. Spell-casting Side Effects of Magic
5. Necromancy FAQ - A Real Necromancer Compares Fantasy Necromancy With The Reality
6. Colour Magic - Gypsy Style
7. Beware of White Men In Gypsy Clothing: Fake Psychic Scams
8. Child Sacrifice in Fantasy Novels

Plotting & Writing Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. Ernest Hemingway Style of Writing Literary Fiction Used In Epic Fantasy Novels
2. Do you write a novel start-to-finish?
3. Ideas, Ideas, Ideas (Where Do You Get Them?)
4. Should I plan for ending or just keep writing?
5. NaNoWriMo Overachievers: How did you do it?
6. How Long is 50,000 Words?
7. Why Write 50,000 Words In 30 Days?
8. How long does it take to hit 1667 words?
9. Average Typing Speed

Character Creation In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. What exactly makes an Elf an Elf? 
2. Phookas
3. Writing Medieval Servants: Their jobs
4. Writing Albinos With Medical Accuracy
5. FAQs About Quaraun
6. Transgender, Transsexual, Transvestite, or Intersex

Writing Sex In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. How To Write Hot Sex?
2. The Amazon Adult Dungeon
3. Why Quaraun Is Not Erotica (2015 Answer)
4. Why Quaraun Is Not Erotica (2017 Answer)
5. Suicide, Rape, & Abuse 

Disabled Characters In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. On being a handicapped CosPlayer at PortCon Maine 2017
2. Quaraun & Autism In Fantasy Novels
3. On Writing A Clinically Insane Character Accurately, While Avoiding The Psychopath Stereotype
4. Autistics Have Feelings Too & Diverse Books Rant

Drug Use In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. Psychedelics In A 'High' High Fantasy World (High Elves Getting High)
2. High, High Elves: Elves on Opium | Drug Use 

Horror In Bizzaro Dark High Fantasy Yaoi

1. Why do Lovecraftian beings come to earth?
2. Writing Horror That Features Violence Against Children 
3. Writing Stuff That Churns Your Gut
4. Twighilight Not Twilight

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The Quaraun Series On Amazon:

I am wondering why has Amazon moved the Quaraun books to the category "Transgender Romance" and also "Gay Erotica"? The base story is a deeply depressed, suicidal, drug addict Elf who's lover commit suicide and he's trying not to do the same. It's an old Elf in a tavern, monologuing a lot of flashbacks and back story scenes of his youth. These stories are dark, bloody, angsty, full of drug use, murder, rape, Medieval torture, mental/physical/emotional abuse, and references to depression and suicide - no romance in it, unless you count the occasional (and usually brutally violent) rape scenes that show up in nearly every volume - sorry - no clue what Amazon is thinking or why they moved these to Romance and Erotica, but these books are NOT even close to being Romance or Erotica on any level at all. When I published these books I put them in "Dark Fantasy" and "Yaoi". If they show up in any category other then "Dark Fantasy" and "Yaoi", it's because Amazon put them there without my authorization or approval.

~EelKat

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Author Interviews
On Writing The Quaraun Series:

1. Question Everything Before Putting It In Your World 

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Author Interviews
On CosPlaying The Quaraun Characters:

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Author Interviews
Reacting To Old Orchard Beach's
White Power Gay Hating Over Reaction Ban
Of The Quaraun Series:

1. Question Everything Before Putting It In Your World 

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The 4 door white truck continues to sit at the end of my drive way (146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine) near every night around sunset, reeving it's engine and squealing it's tires, with the driver yelling anti-gay threats and obscenities out the window. He continues to do the same thing at my dad's apartment building (Biddeford Maine) a few times a week, usually in mid to late afternoon time. He continues to follow me to shopping to various stores in various towns throughout the states.

Phrases he yells from the truck include:

"Kill or be killed remember Saco Shaws all transsexuals are alike"

"I keep a gun under the seat of my truck, I'm gonna use it to shoot you in the head, you transvestite freak"

if cars are going by he yells to them: "that thing is Ken's son, look at how's it's dressed; it's insane, it has autism, we can't allow that thing and it's gay cars in our family friend town of Old Orchard Beach"

He often babbles deranged ramblings about something he calls "the gay-pocalypse", raving lunacy about how "all the gays are gathering" on his doorstep. He raves some crazy nonsense about how Armageddon is coming and the war to end all wars will be "the gays against the Christians" and Christians have to be ready to "kill the gays"

My car is the Autism Awareness Car and had 2.5million marbles glued to it (I have Autism - savant - Kanner's syndrome) he claims tat my car "is gay" because of what it looks like. My car has been vandalized several dozen times, including to have the tires slashed 7 times in 6 months.

After dark often around 10PM, he stands at the end of the logging road across the street from me and shoots at my motohome (in February 2014 he shot holes in my neighbour's barn while doing this). I have video footage of 3 of his shootings at me here:  https://youtu.be/NUebzJ9sz9U and here: https://youtu.be/C4dZbgG-Smw

This has gone on since August 2013 now, in addition to all the vandalism, hate crimes, pet beheadings, etc that has happened, including the bomb that blew up our house in 2006.

As you know, that whole time I had not been able to get a plate number on the truck. He as just here again, and I just realized why I could not get a plate number... there are no plates on the truck, either on the front or on the back. However, as he was driving away today... I noticed, there is a plate, stuck up in the back window of the truck, where it can barely be seen, deliberately obscured from view behind a silver tool box.

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If You Like The Quaraun Series You Might Also Like:

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Writing Resources I Use When Writing The Quaraun Books:

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What do you want to become? 
What did you do today to step closer to that goal?
Whatever you do, be your best at it!
And remember to have yourself a great and wonderfully glorious day!

~EK
EelKat.com
pinterest.com/eelkat/

By EelKat Wendy C Allen

If you ever made fun of or had any part in the destruction of my farm, and the illegal selling of half of my land to Colliard, you shall lose your land.

If you ever made fun of or had any part in my being homeless since 2006 - YES, I AM still homeless in 2023, you shall become homeless.

If you ever made fun of or had any part in the backhoe driving over my house, you shall lose your house.

If you ever made fun of or had any part in my car being cut in half, you shall lose your car.

If you ever made fun of or had any part in my becoming crippled, you shall lose your health.

If you ever made fun of or had any part in the murder of my son, your child shall die an equally horrible death. If you haven't got a child to lose, it will be a brother or sister or parents or spouse or whomever you love the most, and that you should know it was this curse which you brought upon yourself that killed them, they will die on exactly the 7 year anniversary of the very first time, you mocked the death of my child.

Evil men go out of their way to try to drive a person to suicide.

Are you an evil man?

Are you sure you're not?

How many people have YOUR hate filled words killed?

Next time you go to do a mean thing to a fellow human, stop and really think about the consequences of your actions.

Did you ever notice how every one has a story to tell about me, yet not one of them ever speaks the truth?

What lies has YOUR gossiping tongue spread about me?

Did you know...

October 16, 2006, bomb blew up my house because of YOUR lies.

August 8, 2013, the house which replaced the one the bomb blew up, was driven over by a backhoe.

November 14, 2013, my 8 month old infant son was murdered because of your lies.

November 14, 2013, I was beaten up, paralized for 5 months, spent 18 weeks relearning to walk, I'm now crippled for the rest of my life, because of YOUR lies.

Are you proud of what you have done?

Enjoy your eternity in Hell. You earned it. You've certainly worked hard for it.

~EelKat

If you have any information about any of these events, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Update: November 12, 2023

Two days is the 10 year anniversary of the murder of my 8 month old son. The killer has not been found yet. Old Orchard Beach, Maine Police at 207-935-4911 and Portland Maine FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 are investigating the murder of my son so, if you have any information, please give it to them. https://www.eelkat.com/Never-Forget.html

UPDATE to add answer to question:

No. I am legally blind. I have been since I was 4 years old. I can not see what she looks like. I go by sound of voice and body smell to identify people. For what someone looks like I have to go by what others tell me. Like I said, I've never seen the woman who attacks, as she clearly knows I am legally blind and stays over 4 feet away from me. 

A person has to be closer than four feet from me in order for me to even make out the blur outline of their body shape/height/weight. But in order for ne to see their face they must have their face closer the EIGHT INCHES.

It's why I CAN identify the Claire woman and the Kendra woman who murdered my son, if anyone ever finds them and gets them in a line-up, I would be able to pick them out, but why I can not identify this weird crazy woman who shows up at the Biddeford apartment and stand yelling on the front porch and killed my dog Mickey in June 2023, and tried to kill me by poisoning my pizza at Round 1, while running around the restaurant screaming the same way she does here.

I can identify her voice and her laugh and her smell, its a very "Minnie Mouse type" high pitch shrieking with a megaphone style booming cackle laugh. And she smells really strong of alcohol drinks but I don't know what type as I am a Mormon and I don't know them. She also has a weird "rotting cat pee mixed with burned cotton candy smell" to her, which I am told by police, sounds like I am trying to describe a mix of "crack and weed" which the police said is some type of drug, but again, I'm a Mormon so I do not know those things. According to witnesses she is very fat, According to both my mother and my father she is well over 300lbs. Around twenty different people said she has "Shirley Temple Sausage curls" hair, while nearly a dozen other people said she has red curly hair, and several more people described her with straight purple hair, while some described her as wearing a "pulp fiction uma thurman wig".

In total well over a hundred people have come forward citing that she shows up on their porch and starts yell at them, and always starts out with some kind of "I got to warn you about EelKat and her demons" rant. They always describe her as "fat", "morbidly obeses", some say "200lbs" others say "300lbs". Some say she is in her 30s others say she is in her 40s. None of them know who she is, they all say she is a total stranger to them and they also all say, they had no idea who I was either.

They come to my apartment, they said, to tell me what she is doing, each of them saying they found out where I was because she told them my address, and they came over to tell me that she was doxxing my family. These people are always citing that they live in the Cutt St/Main street/May St/South St area, all of them saying they live within 3 or 4 blocks of me and that she walks to their buildings, they never see a car. My Biddeford apartment is 409 Main Street and she has shown up here daily from November 21, 2021 (the same day Etiole was shot; he says by her) until May 17, 2022. After May 2022, she showed up every holiday and every weekend, but no longer every day. 

Today is the 12th of November 2023 and she has already been here 4 times this month. At the same time, people around the Portland Ave and Cascade area of Old Orchard, are also arriving saying the same things, but about a man. They cite a white haired man, very skinny, rather short, around 5'6", around 70, is going driveway to driveway, parking a big Power Wagon sized Dodge Ram pickup truck across their driveway, then getting out, waving a rifle over his head, and yell up at their house ALSO saying he is there to "warn you about EelKat and her aliens". 

The two are believed to be grandfather/granddaughter, and FBI suspects they are the husband and granddaughter of the mystery "Claire" woman who murdered my son. They believe, that the homeless man who was murdered November 19, 2021, DID in fact know who the "Claire" woman who murdered my son was, and they believe this white haired man and woman who screams from porches are the ones who killed the homeless man, seeing how, he showed up on the 7 year anniversary of my son's murder, asking for the FBI phone number, claiming he knew who the woman who murdered my son was, but 5 days later he was murdered before he got a chance to talk to the FBI (the federal building in Portland was closed for the holiday week and the homeless man died before they reopened).

These 2, the white haired man and younger woman both showed up November 21, 2021, 2 days after the November 19, 2021 murder of the homeless man, who was murdered in the backyard of my Biddeford apartment, by the way, that week our building was yellow taped and crawling with police, that's why they were picking up the hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of chopped up pieces of the homeless man, which took them 3 days to find all of him. The FBI believes the homeless man was killed by someone who did not want him to identify my son's murderer... this homeless man's death is WHY my son's cold case, was reopened and the FBI once again here asking all the neighbors for leads. 

The FBI believes that the reason these two are hyper going from house to house all around me (I have 2 addresses: 409 Main Street Biddeford and 146 Portland Ave, Old Orcharch; and they are going up and down both streets and all side streets off of both streets), trying to spread slanderous rumors about me, most of the rumors involving some gibberish about demons, aliens, haunted cats, kidnapped cats, schizophrenia, and tons of other similar outright gibbering insanity.

The FBI believes they are spreading their wild gibbering slander in a weird attempt to get witness to NOT come forward with information about my son's murder. This in turn has led the FBI to believe that SOMEONE NEAR BY IS a witness to my son's murder and is scared of these two people. It is believed that this weird smear slander campaign these two are doing, is a direct fear tactic aimed at terrorizing someone they know to be a witness. 

These two are bullying and harassing my family on extreme and outlandish levels. The whole thing is very bizarre, and if this woman had NOT started running her gossiping, busy body, slandering mout h off on every front porch in the area, my son's murder investigation would NOT have been reopened. 

The thing is, for 7 years, from 2013 to 2021, there were ZERO leads. 

The mystery homeless man who showed up on the 7 year anniversary, was the first time anyone came forward claiming to know who the murderer was, but he was murdered 5 days later, and 2 days after that these 2 showed up with their wild tales of demons, aliens, haunted cars, etc.  

Interestingly, at the same time, YouTube got flooded with HUNDREDS of deep fake "Golden Eagle Haunted Car" AI generated videos, alongside TENS OF THOUSANDS of weird "anti-EelKat" Reddit posts spread across well over a hundred Reddit accounts. Which in turn caused my website to have a MEGA massive increase in traffic - with now over a million users per month, searching Google for the term "EelKat golden Eagle Ghost Car Wendy Allen Demon Car" (the keyword that Google Analytics says has sent the most traffic to my website since November 2021). In their weird slander attempt, and in making all these weird deep fake videos, and in posting all those weird Reddit posts, they have had an unexpected side effect of RAISING AWARENESS to my son's murder, by sending millions of people to my website. 

I don't do any marketing or promoting of my website, there is the URL painted on my car and the link from my FaceBook profile, together those each around two thousand people. 

This weird smear campaign these 2 have done since November 2021, has had a HUGE impact on traffic to my website. HUGE. With my site going from 10k average monthly visitors to over SEVEN MILLION average monthly visitors. 

This woman and the white haired man, in their mega hyper attempts to slander men, inadvertently caused people to start direct typing the word "EelKat" into Google search engine, which of course cause Google to give them eelkat.com as a search result. In their attempt to BURY all thoughts of my son's murder, by trying to spread crazy rumors about me, they instead caused the page about my son's murder to receive an average of over ONE MILLION NEW USERS visiting it, EACH MONTH since they stated yelling from porches around Biddeford in November 2021. 

Which in turn has also lead to more than one thousand people calling the police and FBI giving tips about my son's murder. 

So, in their attempt to make me look crazy, all they did was make themselves look very, very, VERY guilty, while spreading awareness about my son's murder to people who, before these two arrived on porched in Biddeford and Old Orchard, were unaware of my son's murder. 

But no, back to your question, I've never seen either of these two. I'm blind, remember? Blind since I was 4 years old. Blind from being beaten in the face with a limb from a pine tree. I have been blind for five decades.

And no, I've never spoken with either of them. I'm mute, remember? My jaw was fused shut, from the bone growing back wrong, after being beaten in the face with a cinder block brick, when I was 14 years old. I have been mute for four decades. I was 42 years old when doctors discovered I was not born mute, but was forcable made mute by "medical augmentation" aka torture. In June 2016, I had surgery to allow me to open my jaw properly for the first time in 40 years, but four decades mute, meant my vocal cords never grew properly, never received conditioning, and now today, I still can not speak properly, my voice is barely a whisper, IF I can even form vocalizations at all, which usually I can not. Because of this I have no physical ability to raise my voice at all, I can not scream or yell at all, I am physically, medically incapable of getting my voice to be anything other then a whisper, and even that causes searing pain, resulting in I don't bother trying to speak.

And no, I've not had contact with anyone. From 1983 until 2006 I was locked in a rusted racoon trap cage in a wood shed "room", and there were only 7 people who ever checked in on me that entire time, and they only did that once a week. Needless to say I never went to school. I had a typewriter, and my grandmother brought paper each week. I became very good at typing, because for 27 years, I had nothing else to do. 

October 2006 a bomb blew up that house. I almost died. Someone put the bomb in that "room" while I was asleep. From 2006 to 2015, I lived under a 8x9 tarp at the back of that wood shed.

Out of the entire of my more then five decades of life, I have only had contact with Humans for three years. From October 2010 to November 2013.

In October 2010 I went to the Old Orchard Beach High School and got my GED after 3 weeks of night classes. I got a ride to the DMV and got my driver's permit. Then I enrolled in two colleges York County Community College and Southern Maine Community College, taking five classes per semester. I could not enroll as a degree student because I do not know how to count or tell time or read clocks or calendars or do maths.

At SMCC, three professors (Andrew Parker, Robert Vettes, and Chris M) attempted to teach me how to speak. The SMCC student counselor brought in social workers and a state psychologist who diagnosed me as "a feral child" and stated I had no social skills on any level whatsoever due to what they termed "the most horrific case of child abuse and neglect ever seen in Maine history". They found my not knowing about things like eating utensils, bathing, or communicating verbally to be the worst case of "feral childism" in modern history.

A team of psychiatrists were brought to the college, over a dozen of the world's top child behavior specialists from countries all over the world: to do a study on the "training of a feral child" and to make "attempts to intergrade a feral child into modern American society". They called me an anomaly and a "once in a hundred years chance of a lifetime study subject".

Four of them predicted I would: never drive a car, never learn to talk, never make a single friend, never learn to interact with Humans, never learn to eat with a fork, and never learn  math. 

I became the "test subject" of more then a dozen "feral child studied" which lasted my entire time at college, and ended abruptly November 14, 2013, when a mystery woman who identified herself as "Claire" attacked with a golf club, murdering my baby and leaving me with a broken spine and paralyzed legs.

Even before I became bedridden in 2013, I could not walk unaided. My hip was stabbed with a foundation rod, that was driven through my right hip and out my left thigh. My Uncle Bruce did that when I was 4 years old. I've struggled to even stand, let alone walk, since I was FOUR years old. So being crippled, unable to walk, was not new. But my whole life, it was my hips, and now it is my spine, and a severed nerve bundle in my spinal column.

Since November 2013 I have been bedridden, and the ONLY way you can talk to me or see me is to visit me, visit my bed.

I can not see.

I can not talk.

I can not walk.

Since 2013 I am out of bed fewer then 2 hours a day. 

And NO ONE... not ONE SINGLE PERSON, ever visited me since 2013, or before.

The ONLY people who arrive are the ones who stand in the driveway and on the porch and yell obscenities and hate slurs from the street... and they are too far away for me to see them, and they are too far away for them to hear my whisper if I tried to talk, which I don't. Plus, I can not sit up, it takes well over an hour for me to sit up in my bed, so by the time I am sitting up, they are gone.

So, anyone telling you I have seen them, spoken with them, yelled at them, interacted with them, at ANY point prior to 1983... when I was locked in that cage ... is lying to you. Because since 1983, NO ONE but my husband Benjamin Kitchle Wildes, my grandmother Eva Viola Atwater, and my uncles Bruce, Dickie, & David, and my aunt Barbara has EVER underreacted with me at all. And the only interactions from Brice, David, Dickie, and Barbara was to electrocute me for the fun of watching me pass out, stabbing me with broken glass again for th e fun of it, and beating me with cinder block bricks because breaking the bones of children is funny according to them.

From October 2010 to November 2013, ar the ONLY three years of my life where I ever went outside and had interaction with Humans, and I was seen as so UN-human that 90% of my Human interactions was with psychiatrists who were giddy piss pants excited to have "a real live feral child oh boy!" to study.

So ANYONE telling you they have ever had ANY form of interactions with me EVER in my ENTIRE LIFE, if lying to you, because those interactions I just listed are the ONLY ones that have EVER happened. PERIOD.

You ask how I can remember everything everyone has ever done and said? Easy? Because so FEW people have ever done or said ANYTHING AT ALL, that it makes it each to remember EVERY ONE of them, for the very simple fact that there is literally not one other thing in my life to remember.

More then 99% of the hours of my life have been spent ALONE, in total darkness, in a cage, or alone, bed ridden in a bed, with no one saying ANYTHING to me, no one EVER interacting with me at all... and with fewer then two hundred total interactions with a Human in my ENTIRE LIFE, I am easily able to remember every single one of them.

Two days is the 10 year anniversary of the murder of my 8 month old son. The killer has not been found yet. Old Orchard Beach, Maine Police at 207-935-4911 and Portland Maine FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 are investigating the murder of my son so, if you have any information, please give it to them. https://www.eelkat.com/Never-Forget.html 

If you ever made fun of or had any part in the murder of my son, your child shall die an equally horrible death. If you haven't got a child to lose, it will be a brother or sister or parents or spouse or whomever you love the most, and that you should know it was this curse which you brought upon yourself that killed them, they will die on exactly the 7 year anniversary of the very first time, you mocked the death of my child.

Where wee you on your 10th birthday?
I was here:

I was looked in this "room" in Old Orchard Beach, Maine for 27 years. From the time I was 8 years old, until I was 31... I escaped in 2010. That's why in 2013 these same people murdered my 8 month old son and crippled me, and drove a backhoe over my house. To punish me for escaping this room.

Where wee you on your 20th birthday?
I was here:

Where wee you on your 30th birthday?
I was here:

I was looked in this "room" in Old Orchard Beach, Maine for 27 years. From the time I was 8 years old, until I was 31... I escaped in 2010. That's why in 2013 these same people murdered my 8 month old son and crippled me, and drove a backhoe over my house. To punish me for escaping this room.

You never saw the room Ben and my mother kept me locked in for 27 years from the time I was 8 years old, the one Etiole used to break me out of? Well here you go, photos of it from the 2007 FBI and police reports, THIS is the "room", my mother designed it, my father built it, Bruce hired the priests of the Cape Elizabeth, Saco, and Sanford ward Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to rape me in it... from the time i was 8 until 12, when Ben aka the High Priest came along and declared I was his and from the time i was 12 until 31 Ben kept me in this room only allowing me out on Sundays to attend church. still wonder why I hate the Atwaters? When I was 37 years old the FBI showed up and started the investigation into the trafficking ring the Atwaters ran out of 37 Smithwheel Road and 144 Portland Ave, Maine, this room was a pivotal piece of evidence that was roped off and no one allowed in it because of the FBI investigation... that's why the backhoe that ran over this room August 8, 2013 is such a very big importance... THIS room is what the backhoe was trying to hide. Look close at the floor, you can see the bones of the children who didn't survive.

I'm a survivor of adults who thought selling children to priests was a good income and this room was the biggest piece of evidence the FBI had until the backhoe drove over the house and carried off the remained, doing the biggest tampering of evidence of a fucking murder investigation ... that's WHY the backhoe drove over the house, because the Atwaters were desperate to hide the evidence of this rooms existence, and that's WHY they started the alien abduction hoax about me and Etiole because they thought if they destroyed the room and gaslighted me by spread alien abduction rumors, they thought they could convince everyone i was crazy for saying i was locked in this room for 27 years... but they didn't know before they did that, that the FBI had already been in the room and has HUNDREDS of photos of every inch of it. It was not the only place like this. These Atwater run child trafficking "rooms" have been found in twenty-one states. The FBI has shut down 14 of these child trafficking rings run by the Atwaters. If you support the Atwaters in any way, THIS is what you are supporting. When you send money to an Atwater run fund raiser, you funding building more rooms like this one. That's what they do with your hard earned money. Rooms like this, where small children, are raped and starved. And because the children have no birth records, no ID, they live and die without a paper trail. They exist to be raped daily, until they have their first period and risk getting pregnant, and they the room is locked not to be opened again, until they starve to death. Most die before their 12th birthday.

I'm a survivor, and I survived because of Etiole, because while HUNDREDS of people in Old Orchard Beach, Maine knew of this room, used this room, he was the only person with the moral decency to be horrified by this room and try to stand up to the Atwaters, and try the help the children. He used to break in and try to rescue me. Took me out into the swamps of the Ross Forest. But the Atwaters always found me and took me back.

To discredit me, when I was 14 years old, and escaped to the local police and tried to get help, the Atwaters made up a terrible story: they lied to the police. They told the police, there was no room, and Etiole was a figment of my imagination, they called him a demon at first, and later they called him an alien. The Atwaters spread a horrific lie, telling people that I was an alien abductee. And depending on WHICH Atwater you talked to the story changed wildly: sometimes Etiole was a evil spirit, other times a cryptid, other times a demon, but most often "The Amphibious Alien". 

We had a neighbor back in the 1970s, his name was Stephen King, he wrote about us. My Gypsy family, my car, me, and Etiole. He filmed two movies on our farm, but never once tried to help the children he wrote about. He never tried to help us children, even though his books and movies today exist as evidence that he was well aware of this room and Etiole. Instead, he profited off of our pain and suffering, while 120 of those children were saw up and their bones dumped in the Goosefare Broke Ravine in the Reclaim Blueberry Plains of the Ross Forest of Old Orchard Beach, Maine... bones confiscated by the FBI in June 2016, which led to the arrest of many of the child traffickers at 37 Smithwheel Rod, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, that same year. 

Meanwhile The Atwaters continued to spread their lies about me and Etile, contacting hundreds of alien and UFO and cryptid organizations telling them I was abducted by aliens and Etiole was that alien. Only I have no clue what they were doing and I had never heard of the concept of aliens or cryptids or UFOs, and so I had no clue what MUFON and the UFO nuts were talking about, when they showed up on my farm to interview me and try to catch Etiole, calling him an EBE.

There are no aliens.

There are no demons.

There are no evil spirits.

There are no haunted cars.

There was just this room, and the children raped by Mormon priests... Mormon Priests, known as The Atwaters... Mormon Priests who invented the urban myth of a haunted car and a child abducted by aliens, for one reason, and one reason only: to make the children crazy, if those children ever dared tell people about this room.

Rooms like the one at 144 Portland Ave, 146 Portland Ave, and 37 Smithwheel Road, exist all over the State of Maine, and the 3 the FBI shut down in Old Orchard Beach, ran from the 1950s until 2016. I was put in this room in 1983. That's why I have no knowledge of any world event, any movie, and TV show, and books, anything that occurred between 1983 and 2010.

ALL of the children who survived these rooms, ALL of them, have been slandered the same way the Atwaters slandered me and Etiole. Each with stories of aliens and demons. Thirty-one of those survivors, have commit suicide, all who escaped, killed themselves within 3 years because of the alien abduction lies the Atwaters spread about them, alien abduction lies that are no different then the alien abduction lies the Atwaters spread about me and Etiole.

Yes, I am EelKat, Etiole’s friend, but I don’t know why you call me that, because it’s the other way around. He was my friend. He was my ONLY friend. He was the only person in this godforsaken town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, who did not value money or sex over the lives of children.

There are ONE group of people who call me an alien abductee. The Atwaters and their evil, child raping church group. They call me an alien abductee, simple as a gaslighting method, of trying to make me sound crazy, so you won’t look at what they are doing to children. They try to make all the children they torture look crazy, so that no one will believe the child when child tells an adult about the rooms or the rape. Trust NO ONE who calls me an alien abductee, because THEY are involved in a very big child trafficking ring.

I am not an alien abductee and I never claimed to be, and if anyone ever told you I was, you should look at them with suspicion and ask what they did, that they are trying to make you look somewhere else, to not see what they are doing.

There are ONE group of people who call Etiole an alien. The Atwaters and their evil, child raping church group. They call him an alien, simple as a gaslighting method, of trying to make me sound crazy, when I was 8 years old said an old man broke into the room and took me into the swamps; they call him an alien so you won’t look at what they are doing to children. They try to make all the children they torture look crazy, so that no one will believe the child when child tells an adult about the rooms or the rape. Trust NO ONE who calls Etiole an alien, because THEY are involved in a very big child trafficking ring.

Etiole is not an alien and I never said he was, and if anyone ever told you he was, you should look at them with suspicion and ask what they did, that they are trying to make you look somewhere else, to not see what they are doing.

He is a local homeless French Jewish man, whom I let sleep in my car on rainy nights so that he can stay dry. Retarded locals think he is a demon or alien or whatever else they call him, because he is covered in scars and burns and Kabalic tattoos and number tattoos from being a concentration camp survivor from WW2.

You can see video footage of his living conditions:

HERE

and HERE

and HERE. These videos where filmed in 2022

As you can see from the videos, this homeless man whom my sick jackass Uncle Bruce has spent DECADES harassing, has NOTHING, he LITERALLY is living in a hole he dug with his fingernails, in the sand under a fallen tree, and you can see from these videos WHY I let him sleep in my car, and WHY the shit heads of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford Maine who are harassing this homeless man, calling him a cryptid, calling him an alien, calling him an evil spirit, are scumbag pieces of shit who don't deserve the life god gave them.

The Atwaters and their church group are evil, and if you believe their lies about me or Etiole, then you've fallen for their scam, just like they wanted you to do.

There is right now, in October of 2023, a group of people actively going to houses, store, bars, and restaurants throughout Biddeford and Old Orchard Beach, randomly approaching total strangers and and saying "Have you heard about EelKat?" And then going on some spiel involving wild radical tales of demons, aliens, haunted cars, cats, about 40 people near as we can tell, led by an elderly white haired man who drives a dark green pick up truck and a very fat, extremely morbidly obese blond woman about late 30s/early 40s, who people in the area have dubbed "porch bitch" because she goes from porch to porch all over Biddeford screaming from strangers' porches to walkers on the sidewalk, always screaming "Have you head about EelKat?" usually referencing also my Volvo. The FBI believes these two to be the husband and daughter of the woman who murdered my son. If you know who the white haired man or "porch bitch" are, the FBI is actively seeking information about their identity.

I am legally blind, I have never seen either of these people, so I do not know what they look like, I only know what witnesses are telling me they looked like when they showed up at their homes. I also have Kannar's Syndrome, real and actual (non-verbal, low functioning) Autism (not to be confused with high functioning Aspergers; I am only able to communicate by typing, and so here I am, typing, so I am unable to verbally respond to what these people are telling me. I have agoraphobia so, it is often months between me setting foot outside, but I am crippled with a broken spine from the November 14, 2013 attack of the golf club woman who crippled me when she murdered me son and thus I also can not get out of bed or stand up unaided. I do not know who either porch bitch or the white haired man these people are telling me is approaching them are. My son's murderer whom also crippled me, she I can identify if she ever got close enough again, but these two people whom are suspected of being her husband and daughter, I have not seen and can not identify. When you come to me and tell me they have approached you, you do nothing useful or helpful. I can not take YOUR testimony to the police or FBI, because it is YOUR testimony, not mine. YOU have to tell the POLICE and FBI what these people did. Do not come to me and tell me, because other then post this message here, there is nothing else I can do with the information you have provided.

There is some speculation that porch bitch may in fact live in my apartment building here at 409 Main Street in Biddeford, but I have lived here since February 2019, and of the 9 other families here, only one of them has lived here longer than me. Between the 9 families in our building, there are more then people living in this building and to date, I have met none of them.

Initially I had tried to introduce myself to each family in this building however, they are white and I am not, they are Christians and I am Moron/Voodoo, and this Maine where hatred of all things not white and not Christian are at their worst in the entire country.

White hatred for us Gypsies is very bad here in Maine and many in my family have been beaten, tortured, and murdered by the white Christians of Maine.

Does porch bitch live in our building? I do not know. But many witnesses are now saying they have seen her going in and out of the building, so she either lives here or knows someone who does.

With the extreme anti-Gypsy animosity and anti-Pagan animosity the 9 families who live at 409 Main Street have shown my family since we moved in here on February 2019, I would not be at all surprised if porch bitch not only lived here but the others know it, know what she is doing to my family and are not reporting it to the police simply because, that's what white people do to us non-whites.

Interestingly, witnesses are saying they believe the white haired man with the big green Dodge Ram pickup truck, lives on Portland Ave, very near my farm.

It is deeply disturbing, if this is true, because that means porch bitch and the white haired man are doing very severe levels of stalking, because my family has lived at 146 Portland Ave Old Orchard Beach since the 1530s, we settled and founded the town, and in 2019 when I moved into this apartment in Biddeford, no one else lived in this building, other then the gay couple who are still here and the only ones here longer than me. And also in 2019, there was no white haired man living near me on Portland Ave. 

This means, the man suspected of being "Clair's husband and the woman suspected of being "Claire's" daughter, Claire being the name the woman who murdered my son, called herself, have moved in next door to BOTH of my addresses within the last 3 years.

Claire used a golf club to beat my 8 month old son's head in with. If you are protecting Claire, know that THAT is the sort of child murdering bitch you are defending.

Claire's identity is the one we want. We want to know who she is. In 2021 a homeless man showed up in my driveway, claiming he knew who Claire was... 2 days later he was dead on the train tracks and splattered across the back of my house, and 2 days after that, this porch bitch woman showed up. We don't know who any of these people are, not the homeless man, not porch bitch, not Claire. We only got the name Claire, because that's what the bald man with her,November 14, 2013, the day she murdered my son, that's what he called her, and she answered him to that name, like it was her real name.

The Claire who murdered my son, she's who we are looking for... and apparently we got really close in 2021, because that's when porch bitch showed up with her wild alien/demon/cat slander, and she's working over time spreading her slander as far and as wide as she can, making it damn clear, she's scared shitless of us finding out who Claire is.

So, NOW, the FBI is not just asking for information about Claire's identity, they now want the identity of both Biddeford's porch bitch and Old Orchard Beach's white haired elderly man driving the mega, big 2ton dark green Dodge Ram pick up.

These 2 people closing in on my family, DAYS after a witness came forward saying he knew who Claire was, a witness who died 2 days later, before the FBI agents had a chance to talk to him... this is terrifying for my family, and it's deeply disturbing.

Porch bitch and her friends are terrorizing my family. And less then a month ago they killed my dog Mickey. There is something wrong with these people. These are NOT good people.

This is very, very deeply disturbing.

This makes them, in addition to everything else: stalkers.

Keep in mind too, porch bitch is the woman who poisoned and killed my dog Mickey only a few weeks ago. And one week before she poisoned and killed my dog, Mickey, she showed up at PortCon 2023, with a gang of about 12 others, at Round 1 in the Maine Mall, and tried to kill me, by peeling back the cheese on my pizza and loading it up with onions, something I am deadly allergic to. I would have been dead within 15 minutes had I eaten it. Porch bitch is dangerous. And she wants me dead. And she thinks nothing of killing my pets. She's proven that much.

There are HUNDREDS of people throughout Biddeford and Old Orchard Beach contacting me, both online and in person offline, telling me that these people approached them at random. They appear to be hellbent on approaching every single person to set foot in either town, so if you are in Biddeford or Old Orchard Beach you'll likely encounter them sooner or later if you haven't already. They appear to have been doing this since around May 2021, but so far no one knows who they are.

One detail though: porch bitch, has been saying some very specific information about the murder that was NEVER made public, and is not in the police public access report, it's only in the FBI's classified report. The ONLY person who knows this detail is the murderer herself, and porch bitch is too young to be the murderer. The blond golf club woman who attacked me November 14, 2013, was in her late 60s to early 70s, she'd be in her late 70s or early 80s today. Porch bitch is young enough to be her daughter or granddaughter. But porch bitch has been saying information that ONLY the murderer would know, so porch bitch DOES have personal contact with my son's murderer and is probably dangerous herself.

She has information that was never released to the public. Information the police and fbi kept out of public access reports. Information that was kept classified so it could be used to identify the murderer. Information she could only get, from the murderer. She is using 27 Facebook accounts and over 100 Reddit accounts to post that information as far and wide as possible, while gathering up a large group from the Sanford ward church to go around Biddeford and Old Orchard Beach also spreading that classified information, while at the same time spreading the rumors and lies that I am an alien Abducted and Etiole is an alien, while also spreading rumors of my cars being haunted, while also making hundreds of deep fake videos on YouTube about me and my cars and Etiole. She is orchestrating a huge defamation slander smear campaign, which you have seen some of the videos about me and my car. Fbi believes she is the daughter of the golf club bitch who murdered my baby and is doing this because Tod Murphy told the FBI his mother was bragging to be the golf club woman. Porch bitch showed up same time Tod Murphy did, in fall of 2021. The Sanford ward people joined her around May 2022. Fbi is currently investigating every one connected to the Sandford ward, and they now believe the golf club woman to have been a member in 2013. You don't have full details of what porch bitch is doing, who is helping her, and how alarmingly large scale what she is doing is, simply because I can not give you full details. There is a lot of information about porch bitch and her crew that I've not said, things the FBI and police are aware of, and you the general public, don't need to be aware of.

These people are actively and deliberately making a massive attempt to compromise an FBI murder investigation, alongside huge levels of victim shaming.

Porch bitch clearly knows who the murderer is, and the FBI is looking for ANY information you have that leads to identifying porch bitch, because arresting porch bitch, is right now, the #1 best chance of also finding and arresting my son's killer.

If you have any information about any of these events, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

Never forget: my son was murdered. That's what they want you to forget. They make up crazy rumors and lies because they want you to think about something, anything OTHER then my son's murder. And the ONLY person with THAT motive, is the golf club wielding blond woman, and anyone who is trying to cover up her crimes.

They want you to forget my son was murdered.

Clearly porch bitch is scared shitless that the killer, someone she knows, will be arrested soon, or she wouldn't be so hyper vigilant in her mega extreme slander campaign going on in Biddeford, Maine right now.

Beware of ANYONE who calls Etiole an alien, for he is not an alien and they are lying to you about him, as a slight of hand means of misdirection, to turn you away from seeing their own crimes.

Beware of anyone who tells you I believe in aliens, for I do not, and they are lying to you in a gaslighting technique meant to keep you from noticing the crimes they commited.

Trust no one who tells you I cast curses or consort with demons, for I do neither, and they say these things to you out of malicious motives, to make you look at anything other than themselves. They don't want you to see the sins they do, so they spread wild and bizarre rumors about me and an elderly homeless veteran, in a magicians pallor trick of misdirection. They use me and Etiole as their smoke and mirrors, so that you are looking the other way, while they get away with heinous crimes.

Beware of anyone who calls me a witch, for I am a Mormon, 5th generation, and we Mormons do not believe in witchcraft.

I need not tell you their names, for by their own actions, they will reveal themselves to you.

Pay very close attention to anyone who approaches you to "warn you" about EelKat... because remember too, my name is not EelKat. My name is Wendy Christine Allen. EelKat is a fictional character, a talking back fairy cat, from a Space Fantasy novel. Miss Citten The Eel Kat is Empress of Planet Ptarmagin and she travels to distant galaxies in a star ship, collecting deep space eels from other planets, her name is unpronounceable, so people call her "The Eel Kat" because she is the cat who has pet eels. The book was titled "Friends Are Forever" and it was published in 1978. You have to be severely mentally disabled in order to think that a talking space cat from a Fantasy novel is real, let alone be crazy enough to think that the author is that character. The very fact alone that porch bitch refers to ME as EelKat, that alone tells you the deeply disturbed fantasy prone mental case we are dealing with her. Her inability to discern fiction from reality, and he belief that I, a real person, an EelKat, a fictional space cat from a novel, or her belief that a local homeless veteran, is an alien, or her belief that my Dodge or my Volvo are demon possessed, that alone tells you what type of incredibly dangerous psychopath porch bitch really is. 

You can see video footage of his living conditions:

HERE

and HERE

and HERE.

THAT is the homeless veteran, this woman is calling an alien or a demon, depending on which delusion she is babble that day. THAT is Etoile. THAT is how he lives. THAT is who this deplorable woman is harassing.

Pay very close attention to anyone who approaches you to "warn you" about EelKat or otherwise tries to convince you I have anything to do with aliens, demons, curses, or witches, for they are deceiving you, and they do so, to draw your attention away from themselves. 

Never forget, my son was murdered on November 14, 2013, and the killer still walks free, and anyone telling you anything about aliens, demons, curses, or witches, has one goal and one goal only: a flagrant attempt to discredit me, and protect my son's murderer.

They ONLY want you to think about aliens to make you forget my son was murdered.

The FBI is looking for my son's killer AND the identity of the people who are trying to hinder their investigation.

If anyone approaches you and tells you Etiole is an alien CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about aliens to make you forget my son was murdered.

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 

If anyone approaches you and tells you that I believe in aliens CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about aliens to make you forget my son was murdered. 

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

If anyone approaches you and tells you Etiole is a demon CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about demons to make you forget my son was murdered. 

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322 

If anyone approaches you and tells you that I believe in demons CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about demons to make you forget my son was murdered.

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

If anyone approaches you and tells you that I cast curses CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about curses to make you forget my son was murdered. 

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

If anyone approaches you and tells you that I am a witch CALL FBI Agent Andy Drewer and tell him who they are. They ONLY want you to think about witches to make you forget my son was murdered. 

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

They are going out of their way to try to make you forget my son died, by coming up with ludicrous tales of aliens and demons. And the ONLY person with ANY motive to do that, is the blond woman who murdered my son.

They want you to forget my son was murdered.

NEVER FORGET!

Never forget, November 14, 2023 will be the 10 year anniversary of the November 14, 2013 murder of my 8 month old infant son, at BugLight Lighthouse Art Studio of Southern Maine Community College in South Portland, Maine. If you have any information about who his killer is, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207-774-9322

They are going out of their way to try to make you forget my son died, by coming up with ludicrous tales of aliens and demons. And the ONLY person with ANY motive to do that, is the blond woman who murdered my son.

NEVER FORGET!