Wednesday, August 13, 2003
"Enough!", I cried, displaying my reddened cheeks as a sign of weakness. Mugh perceived and settled to the floor; his coarse laughter removed my boldness and a coat of paint, cheaper than sandpaper, perhaps. "Enough!" he screamed. Verification of my previous entreatment left me withered and fruitless. I yodeled angrily in a two-tone melliobaise, to which he gave me the Third Finger. Massaging my buttocks I arose to my full height, knowing the effect it had on women. Being male he had me arrested, shaved and flung into gaol. Being assaulted daily and nightly by prissy English types, I planned my escape with the utmost secrecy. Night after night I lay in that forsaken hell-hole, whittiling fondly-remembered childhood authority figures from the soft wooden bars of the window. When the bars were of matchstick width, I sung forbidden Bravainian hymms of such a precise frequency as to shatter each bar at 1 third of the length from the base and 1 fourth from the top, removing an exact 2/3 sixteenths of the shaft. It was not enough, and digging deep into my regrettable atonal knowledge I managed a hideous Ego-Tostenfrul Diverse Litany which removed the entire masonry surround of the window, door and the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, open to the public on weekdays. Such a French disaster drew the guards and the constabulary of gay Paree, who were noticably shorter due to arriving at such a speed that their footwear burned to a series of crispy husks, as well as being short gits. "Holy moo", said one; I grasped the opportunity with all my strength and shook it by it's scrawny feathered neck. Alas! they were armed; my having feet was to my advantage, and I kicked them thrice to a man in their sock-puppets and shunted my withered frame at rocket-speeds through the nearest valet service, luckily in Malta. Being 30,000 miles from my point of origin did unspeakable logistical mishaps to my sock-puppet and once again I was forced to re-align myself against the nearest Volvo Esperance, 34,050 miles away in Roppongi, Japan, famous for speciality yakitori and blatant xenophobia.
