The attack begins to spiral as the universe turns.
It shoots off and strikes a galaxy, turning the entire thing into a gaping hole in the fabric of space-time.
My form, still rather amorphous, dissolves into a spiral of smoke as everything spins like some insane top.
With her characteristic linguistic grace my shadow remarks on the current events.
"I.. Am.. Gonna... Hurl.."
“She'd become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do. And she'd taken to it well. She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella.”
― Hogfather