Perhaps Poison Pie would fancy a woman on fire. Others had. We had read of grooms who fell head over heels for burning women. Succubi haunted men's dreams and sated their desire for fire, in exchange for their potato-shaped souls. Having just such a soul, it was right and proper for a man of the mushroom people to want fire.

When the fungal tongues of flame poked from the earth, I pointed them out in excitement to Marie, who said, "It's a good thing Poison Pie isn't here himself. He would want this bride immediately, idiot that he is." We moved on.