New Trends in Automated Headgear.

 

The cloth wrap-around, which I'm told risks frightening the neighbors' children, adapts snugly to my cranium and gives all the best accents for a time of conflict. Any boldness that I try to exhibit during events which teeter provocatively, is certain to not fail me as long as the head is well soothed, the stations are rapt and attention is finely calibrated to avoid the misunderstandings which can foretell menacing consequences. We try to drink from the same cup in more ways than one. My own personal 'Sergeant' seems to prefer basking even though breaks-in-the-action are sure to be enjoyed only by the weakly nestled. Within what—or whom?—are we justified in placing our trust? This is a question which goes to the very core of our entrapment roster. Please be it ever so kind to offer the hand of truth in a tsunami of flagrancy.

The shift is on and the People of Bount are set to be asked to function as a type of filter. They will be charged with quizzing the naysayers and scoping their preparations for an 'all-points' alert. This is typically expected when a ground-breaking assertion with respect to those who scale the heights of societal esteem is voided at the very last minute to suit the needs of the corpulent few who reside at the apex. We know it can't be helped if one of the most derided pillars looks into occurrences on the upper floors of a spartan structiure last seen during the first week of Easter. With friends like these, it can take more than a few hours to preserve a scenic route from an arcane trapping crew. They come from multiple directions. I hear that they've got a scale model hidden in their luggage. That doesn't mean, though, that I want to see them get bogged down—or maybe even die!—in any old desert. Far from it, in fact.

People who are partial to being seen as immune to the wiles of victim-shaming Postal Carriers should watch what they've been designed to eat at curbside tablatures. Our resting pulse engages at the final moment and even though our postural defects are well hidden, a brace for our tumult is far from useless if a house-bound vagabond feels the urge to share one of his most salacious pescaturios. We will crouch behind a wall and speak quietly about our private shame. Not one of us is known for taking an entire day to gin up a malodorous mob. Any tricks will accrue to our eternal benefit. This is how we live for success in numbers. What is the number? The number is three hundred and forty-three. Live with it.

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