An idea between friends, quite nefarious I might add, was cracked open on the deck of a dock on the lake. It spilled over the edges of our imaginations creeping into the dark crevices of slashing memory purring into reality through two recycled notebooks and a BIC pen. Oh what wondrous ways fate does fall...

With crooked intent we perched on the edge of the planks, laughing in mischievous glee. Ooooh what tales we shall spin. What pickles we shall find. What magnificence will be unleashed...