Hiding under guarded silk, moist as a hephalump under the horizon, was a puddering, powder sea salt shaker. Shivering with a million splendors under the Viennese moon of Hawlslamity, he spoke of kings, queens, and washing machines. Stolen towers ate no flowers of a bedridden spout. Movement in the cataclysm will sure to grow your snout! Here here! Said he, in C. Bashful hound hounds and their breakable industries of parking lot meters! Why have thee deceived me, the austere, conspirator mouse?
The evil gladly share their spines.
They scratch themselves with porcupines!
The turquoise grub, his hat, his shovel
The mangy sprites! On The double!
Wholesome activity in the malignant mollusk milieu. chatter and flattery. Matter and hattery. Murder and battery! All and more growing from your navel.
Snip snap go their claws.
This and that clack their jaws.
Who is to say and who is to blame? A monger of steam on the corner down the way, pushing his place of business with his might and more towards my angler fish home. A badger and his clergyman are in cahoots in the sporadic mystery tame game. Feathers and quills. Memory gils. Mahogany brave! Mahogany brave! Concave mosquitos, concave mosquitoes, a manic coffin full of rain.
What do you see when you ascend to the pipers palace in the earth's forgotten crust? A small note? What says it?
Alas! The malignant mollusk milieu
has faded to nihil, didn't you know?
There shall be no laughter, there shall be no screams
The shore of the sea is deprived of it's dreams.
Fine with you! The story's over anyway. Return to your antics.
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