Want to forget? Here’s someone who can help.

Here comes the Snickety-Snackerty Man. His services are
whispered of in the Occult Underground, half as threat, half
as promise. For the Snickerty-Snackerty Man can reach
inside your head with those long, long fingernails of his,
and *snick* *snack* there goes a memory.

Want to relive the first time you tasted pistachio icecream?
*snick* *snack* there goes the first time.

Want to reread Shakespeare, or Tim Powers, or Dirk Allen for
the first time, to experience that sense of wonder again?
*snick* *snack* and the books are an unknown land to you.

Want to experience the rush of first love? *snick* *snack*
and you’ve never loved before.

And there you are, free to experience these things again.
Of course, you can’t quite remember the name of the little
girl who had strawberry when you had pistachio, or the smell
of the cut grass in Central Park on that hot summer night
when he read Othello’s part with such majesty, or the name
of your wife and children.

But that’s not important *snick* *snack* .