craving a banana, I set out on a voyage of discovery. first I booked passage on a tugboat bound for Winnipeg. then I worked my way across the vast granite shield of Mumble to the place where library paste flows like wine. I knew freedom would not be mine to enjoy until I found a way into the Marmalade Fields. my path led through the self-righteous tweet bogs and deprecating mothball hills; once I almost gave up my quest when my sturdy Hungarian flutist ran off with the Applesauce Gang -- but I forgave the poor man; after all, his grandmother had been a meter maid.
sheltering in a cave I accidentally tipped over a large boulder underneath which I found the seven scrolls of Gig. they taught me how to be totally independent and never rely on anyone else. soon I was master of my own ship and set sail for the Marmalade Fields. which turned out to be closed on Sundays. coming back I fell into a terrible storm that shipwrecked me on the Isle of Matchmakers, where I was enslaved for fifteen years until a flotilla of egg cartons slipped into the bay and bombarded the fort into surrender. all slaves were released so I headed for home -- where I found the laundry still waiting for me with open arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment