QUOTE : m a butterfly!” screamed the fat man as he ran, flapping his arms like two really flabby, really rubbish wings. “You’re actually not,” Valkyrie Cain told him for the eighth time. He ran around her in a big circle, bathed in moonlight, and she just stood there with her head down. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and moments earlier she’d had to drag her eyes away from his wobbling bosoms before they made her feel queasy. Now that his trousers were starting their inexorable slide downwards, she was averting her gaze altogether. “Please,” she said, “pull up your trousers.