So, having given up on finding Mr. Right, I decided to make one. Frankly, it didn’t take an Einstein. Just a bit of heavy digging, some needlework, and a lightning rod. With a bathtub or so of cologne, the scent was hardly noticeable, and the wig hid most of the stitches.

How was I to know the villagers had a pitchfork and torch fetish?

View this story's 2 comments.