Knife of a midge tree
1. He sat budgly on the scoop of the bed, begging the indiction, “You guess what first word pops into my mind.” His voice rose and soared through the nimbus, reaching a teetering brink with a, “YOU GUESS WHAT FIRST WORD POPS INTO MY FUCKIN MIND!” I quoke and broke and slobbered down, defeated by one mighty howl. Billow. No, Susan: Happy Father’s Day.
2. It is only after the cocoon has ruptured and punctured the arthrital pit that the whole crux of the thing takes root and results in one big hell of a breakdown. This isn’t Chicago style we’re talkin’ here- this is some real heavy shit. We’re talkin’ deep dish “DON’T YOU FUCK WITH THIS” shit.
3. As the dawn broke and the limer bird collapsed the sky and strove off into the infinity port, I emerged from the crystalline marriage bed and reached for the closest nectar bottle. I quickly polished it off and discarded the corpse-shell in the disposable pantry liner that stood stately in the corner. Not at all the type of action expected of a Colonel of Medicine, but under the circumstances, I have to think they will allow it. After all, no one ever told me otherwise…
4. Sitting perched on a trr, wondering which way was the western sun, he launched a spifter from his beak and tasted the wind fumes upon his numptins. It was clearly the brisk kind of day all had been waiting for. Now, finally, work could be continued on the escape raft, and something could be done about this damn turtles.
5. Amazing how the human mind comprehends, deposits, stores, and recalls all of this bullshit. No need to ever know this stuff, and yet, here it is. Prime for the pickin’. What a world.