Already regretting assigning coverage of the Fyre musical festival to Mr Robert E. Howard:
He bestrode the smoldering wreckage, wandering through the detritus of a nightmare scene, his eyes flashing with potent rage. He lightly swings an iPhone 7S in one hand, a fell and sinister splinter of star-metal forged steel and glass that would take any lesser being two hands even to lift. His massive thews cording and straining yet his breathing was even, his mighty heart calmly thrumming, his thumb swift and sure as he charges upon the cowering husk of his enemy and hurls the abomination at his foe’s feet. “You call THAT a ham sandwich!” he thunders and posts to Instagram, victorious, exultant.
