There’s no surer sign of the decline of home economics in the village than the sight of shambling horrors parading down the path from the castle, each a chimera stitched from creatures and men, yet by the time they reach our square, they’ve lost AT LEAST one limb, strings trailing behind them.

An attempt to abduct a single child then prompts MORE rupturing and once again, we have to apportion precious well water to mopping unspooled monsters off the cobblestones.

Shoddy stitchwork. It’s shameful.