It has always seemed to me that my existence consisted purely and exclusively of nothing but the most outrageous nonsense.
- Thomas ‘Laughing Boy’ Ligotti
Me: The Rats in the Walls?
Him: The walls were full of rats, remember?
Me: Yeah, yeah.
Him: “I can smell them! I’m going to have to shut this shop down, it’s full of rats!”
Me: It was probably just builders next door, I didn’t mean to frighten the poor person. So, any titles there you think we can cannibalise or cobble together or do you want to come up with a new one? ‘cause we can’t just call this, ‘The Trap Door and Other Weird Tales’.
Him: The Unnameable… In the Vault…
Me: I dunno.
Him: The Horror at Fang Rock…
Me: ‘The Horror at Fang Rock’? That’s been done, I think.
Him: Sorry, I misread it. It’s The Horror at Red Hook.
Him: The Colour Out of Space…
Me: That’s a good un. Unless we mash two of them together?
Him: What? Like ‘The Call of Pickman’s Model’?
Me: We could do that, yeah.
Him: I meant like that, I didn’t mean that.
The sea badger makes its squamous way across the room, ruining the carpet.
Him: ‘The Shunned Sandwich’?
Me: Ha! ‘The Shunned Sandwich’!
Him: The Shunned House and The Dunwich Horror. Or Dunwich.
Me: It’s Dunwich.
Him: Dunwich. I’ve never been there, so I don’t know.
Me: It’s twinned with Rhyl.
Me: Ha! No.
Him: It’s a shame that it’s not The Shunned Sandwich. I’d have liked that.
Me: Shall we call it that?
Him: Yeah, alright.
Me: The Shunned Sandwich. That’s our intro.