Broken vow pay back

He With the Glasses and Eyepatch is starting to pay me back for not fulfulling my vow to read ULYSSES in a year.

Publisher's Weekly just gave THE KILLING SEA an enema of a review.

I had a midnight visitor...

Late last night, something woke me up. Not a sound, for three temples were in full pre-dawn wail, (when I was a child, sometimes at night I would hear a soft and distant gamelan, mysterious and alluring--these days it's all loudspeakers). I lay awake in the warm darkness. And then I smelled it. Something cooking in the kitchen.

I padded down the stairs. There before the stove stood a spry old gentleman, peering through round glasses at a pan on the flame. "I do love a good kidney," he said. He had an accent soft as imported soap. "The faint tang of urine makes me particularly peckish. Have you any bread?"

I wordlessly brought out the loaf and butter. He lavishly spread a slice and then pointed the knife at me. "You vowed to read ULYSSES in a year, did you not?"

I nodded. He cackled. "The more fool you. Nonetheless, vows broken are the devil's delight. I've managed to secure an extension for you."

At last I found my voice. "For how long?"

A cut of kidney on the bread, a relish of bite. He chewed with reverence and then spoke. "As long as you wish. However, all your novels will be remaindered unless you fulfill your vow."

And then I woke up. It had all been a dream.

Except when I went down at dawn for my coffee, a pan was upon the stove, rimmed with oil, and emitting a faint stench of kidney and urine...