Once upon a glacier, three swashbuckling
Heads of State met. Over tea and crumpets, they pondered the philosophical
implications of the evenings' Northern Lights, as reflected in the kitchen
The Garrulous Taciturn Oracle of the Absurd had surrepticiously traced
the outline of the ghostly sky's diaphanous multicolored streamers, when
a crumb fell and broke in an astoundingly revelatory pattern upon the
glistening eggshell bowl of the aforementioned sink, which itself was
cradled in the bow of their kayak, melliflously named "Zephyr".
"Hmm," said GTOOTA (better known as the Garrulous taciturn Oracle
of the Absurd) "this kitchen sink crumb is telling me it is time
for action!" She looked queriously at the Intrepid Explorer.
"Right-o" trumpeted she, "Is it not time to consult our
splendifferously spiffy Magic 8 Ball, as to the adventure of the day?
Philosopher King, would you be so kind as to bequeath the specially splendid
standard starry-eyed strictly shrink-wrapped salacious snack-sized swift-seeing
super sonographic sundial slinky spectacles, sir?"
The Philosopher King, third in the swashbuckling trio, nodded his assent.
He reached under the Bellicose Bassoon for the aforementioned bidimensional
specs, where they ALWAYS were.
"Holey Pugnacious Pickled Porcupine Pie! They've vanished into slightly
thin (due to elevation, of course) air!
"AaaaaaaaaaAaaaaAAAAAArrrrrrggghhhh!" chorused the trio.
"Phil," GTOA sighed, "This unfortunate and confusing catastrophe
indubitably calls for a NAP."
Whereupon, napping ensued, followed by milk and cookies.