Cut To the Chase and Tan Hat Man

Cut To The Chase...And Tan Hat Man! Though reading horror stories (macabre), an only every now and again genre crazy wave washing over me like a killer tsunami, (subsequently fueling desperation) to save thine scrawny ****, (a derriere laughing stock, and hence cheeky of me to rave), those rare occasions satiated, when hung over insomnia heavily bulging, rheumy myopic blood shot eyes nonetheless lock into critical opening sentence determining, whether adroit kingly author nimbly setting the stage and pave ving what thenceforth, pro misses tubby a cell out ace in the hole captive audience (me, this apt pupil), doth brace himself (by all counts once a bad little kid) deserving, well...now... just a bag of bones, who fiendishly cackles when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like), whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous possessive gnarly hand forcibly grabs my attention presaging and frightening yours truly (juiced in case ye did not know), where within the bazaar of bad dreams epic, which seems like forever, when I finally erase and exorcise the bogeyman who, masterfully, immediately, dramatically got woven lady chattery teeth and all withering wicked warp and woof establishing (proof positive), an excellently crafted Chiral Mad heavily shades of night are falling gussying haunting place, where the color of evil permeates every cerebral space with darkness, said sub rosa prime evil punctuates the mind this dream catcher, whence after four past midnight the reaper's image appears sending adrenaline rush, viz flight or fight blind did, when firestarter alarm didst grind passage of time manifesting dark forces blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined up battleground formation from the borderlands of my mind this even before turning the first page where the eyes of drag'n my afterlife shined!