Last night’s KGB was great! Several short pieces were presented, a format I loved – it really showcased the range of things Weird Tales has been publishing recently. (ETA: Man, it’s nice when you can say that and it means “any time in the last decade”, since they’ve been around since, you know, 1780.)

The bar, however, was PACKED. I stood in my usual clautrophobic-friendly position in the vestibule, and then the VESTIBULE got packed. I ended up sitting on the stairs and trying to ignore the theatre people on the 3rd floor, who were practicing True Blood levels of Southern accents. Good luck relahin’ on the kaahndness of strayungurs, ladies!

A quick dinner, and then it was off to the Dessert Truck, a tradition Liz Gorinsky started by pointing out how awesome the Dessert Truck is. To this I say, “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.”

They’ve brought out their seasonal autumn desserts, namely their pumpkin custard and their baked apples and puff pastry. Those both had fruit in them, though, which means they were not a dessert, but rather nutrition in disguise. I AM ON TO YOU, DESSERT TRUCK.

I made a beeline for the molten chocolate cake.

Photo by Eugenio Garcia-Palacios

They are not joking about the molten part, you guys. It was halfway between a cake and a pudding, and between the olive oil and the dark chocolate, it wasn’t even sweet. It was like being punched in the face with a box of Dutch cocoa powder. Twice.

The cake also had salted pistachios on the top, which means that as soon as you finish the cake (and by “finish” I mean “desperately hand it over to someone when you feel your arteries turning into a molten-chocolate transportation device”) you are desperately thirsty. Unfortunately the chocolate in your veins is already hardening! You can’t move! Oh, cruel world!