For quite a long time Amorella had suspected that Eros had some beef with her. He gave Amorella the most impossible assignments ever… “See this Canadian woodcutter? His destined bride lives in Calcutta, she sells mobile phones. Make these two meet somehow, and make them fall in love, chop chop!” – Amorella angrily imitated Eros’ high-and-mighty manner of speech. Then a cunning and wicked smile broke on her tiny pink lips and she licked her sharp little fangs. She picked an arrow and she dipped the tip into a black jar that contained some indescribable dark liquid. “It’s your turn
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