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Mutt'n'n'Jeff

(No.)

(Impressive episode. I may be ill.)

(I think I'm just going to have to write everything in parentheses. That way, it'll all make sense, a fact which should confuse and disconcert you.)

(It all makes sense, though, once you look at it properly. It smiles kindly in your direction as it turns the proper cheek to the proper wind. The crank turns. The crank speaks. And the voices in my head are silent, making them contradictory, as usual.)

(Maybe I'm dreaming. That would explain the hippos. There are hippos in the next office over. Big ones. Life-threatening hippo attacks. (I lie. I just really like saying hippo.))

(Hippo.)

(Robob. Robablee. Pearobboblee. I'm going slightly mad. I'm going slight-lee mad. It finally happened. It finally happened. Oh no. It finally happened. I'm slightly mad. Just very slightly mad. Oh dear.)

(In the madness refrain, as I raise the gain and feel the pain and the rain falls in spain on the inclined plane, Hoooow goes it with you? Must I threaten champagne? Must I waltz? I waltz badly, I'll have you know. I do many things badly. Just wait until you see the Olympics. There'll be a crowd of thousands and I. A score of atheletes and I. A million carzed television viewers and I. And among them all, only I will have the gold star for Best and Brightest Star of Two Thousand Years Back.)

(I was there. I led the wise men. They didn't want to follow, oh no. They kvetched and complained up the wazoo. And yet, they obeyed my every command. I felt hypnotic. I caused them to varnish eachother's laundry baskets whilst singing Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda You're Gonna Waltz Dear Mathilda With Me, And They Sang As They Sat With That Jumbuck In Their Tuckerbags, You're gonna waltz dear mathilda with me. And their voices were heard throughout the land, and many trembled and wept, and the rest begged for forgiveness from an unfeeling platypus. And the platypus heard them not. For platypi have no ears. Certainly not vulcan ears. Though that would certainly be a sight to behold. Toss in a leaf of cabbage for a cloak and you'll have a dark, mysterious, elflike platyus of the night. Maybe give them power over people's undershorts. Superplatypus. No, that's unwieldy. Superplat? Suplat? Supplicant? Riding the gravy train, sweetheart, riding the gravy train to foolsville.)

(This excercise in casual causal inlucid evitability brought to you by the fine people at Motorized Chocolates, Inc. All rights tossed up in the air for the chickadees to play with. I flee now.