Anansi Boys

Part of the Neil Gaiman Collection.
This series based on Neil Gaiman‘s Locus and British Fantasy Award winning novel, Anansi Boys.

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This is a charitable, not-for-profit venture: proceeds from every single set and tee goes to the National Coalition Against Censorship, which works to promote freedom of thought, inquiry, and expression while opposing censorship in all forms.

Because of the nature of this project, imps are unavailable for this series.

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    Mr. Nancy Perfume Oil

    Before Fat Charlie’s father had come into the bar, the barman had been of the opinion that the whole karaoke evening was going to be an utter bust; but then the little old man had sashayed into the room, walked past the table of several blonde women with the fresh sunburns and smiles of tourists…He had tipped his hat to them, for he wore a hat, a spotless green fedora, and lemon-yellow gloves, and then he walked over to their table. They giggled….He was older than they were, much, much older; but he was charm itself, like something from a bygone age when fine manners and courtly gestures were worth something. The barman relaxed. With someone like this in the bar, it was going to be a good evening.

    Sugar cookies with bay rum, tobacco, and lime.

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    Spider Perfume Oil

    There was a family resemblance between the two men. That was unarguable, although that alone did not explain the intense feeling of familiarity that Fat Charlie felt on seeing Spider. His brother looked like Fat Charlie wished he looked in his mind…Spider was taller, and leaner, and cooler. He was wearing a black-and-scarlet leather jacket, and black leather leggings, and he looked at home in them…There was something larger-than-life about him: simply being on the other side of the table to this man made Fat Charlie feel awkward and badly consructed, and slightly foolish. It wasn’t the clothes Spider wore, but the knowledge that if Fat Charlie put them on he would look as if he were wearing some kind of unconvincing drag. It wasn’t the way Spider smiled–casually, delightedly–but Fat Charlies’s cold, incontrovertible certainty that he himself could practice smiling in front of a mirror from now until the end of time and never manage a single smile one half so charming, so cocky, or so twinklingly debonair.

    White ginger, artemesia, vetiver, nutmeg, King mandarin, bergamot, and lime.

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