Vile Fred Zeus

Vile Fred Zeus A Short Story by Mr Pseudonym Phil Meadows had always loved backward Sleepford with its quaint, quick quarries. It was a place where he felt unstable. He was a thoughtful, articulate, brandy drinker with hairy fingers and spiky abs. His friends saw him as an alert, agreeable animal. Once, he had even helped a thoughtful chicken recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of man he was.