Be Yourself. Unless You Can Be a Unicorn.

George had read the signs; they’re all over Facebook. What a load of bollocks.

He knew what he was supposed to be. All white and pure and beautiful. But the bills had to be paid, food put on the table and the sodding virgins never bring cash. Besides, the look of disappointment followed by disgust gets old really quickly.

George spotted the girl in the white dress and flowing tresses. He shambled away, scratching his balls with a big, hairy hand. The pictures were right about one thing – he did have a horn. Just not where they expected it.