With pointed fangs I sit and wait; with piercing force I crunch out fate; grabbing victims, proclaiming might; physically joining with a single bite. What am I?
On the dull night when the blonde was dozing, she heard an odd clamour and she saw that there was a bizarre man with a gun simply outside her home. So she raced to the telephone to call the police, however, she can't dial 911. Why?
There were two grandmothers and their two granddaughters.
There were two husbands and their two wives.
There were two fathers and their two daughters.
There were two mothers and their two sons.
There were two maidens and their two mothers.
There were two sisters and their two brothers.
Yet there are only six, who are buried here,
All are born legitimate and relationships clear.
How can this happen?