That man, he sells feairies, locked up in a jar, ready to come out and eat you, consume your brain with fear, until your minds been eaten away.

Gone forever, never to come back.

He sells them in little green glass jars, the tops chipped.

They beat their tiny fists, screaming obscenities.

Anger, frustration, fear.

In a green glass jar.

He never stays in one place for very long.

The fearies are bought, never for personal always for another...