The Tale of the Tape.

 

There's a tape right here in my desk drawer where you can distinctly, albeit softly, be heard intoning a series of non-invasive numbers. Only the most petulant of scorekeepers would think to hold it against you. It's true that I'm one of the few who is aware as to what brought you to that point. It's well known here in the Township that you made it a habit of scuttling to and fro without the required coverlet. Not even when you were in shouting distance could anyone lay the blame on your lying feet. Otherwise, your sandy-haired paramour would take to telling off-color jokes in front of the entire Auxiliary Department. Even then I knew that you had it coming. What I didn't know was how far you'd be willing to prance before the serious infestation really got underway. By which we in no way mean to offer you egress into a fantasy slalom of your own pitiful crevices. That would wait for another day. That day is now. You can do nothing.

Our plentiful market-rate denialists have caved to the latest ruminant to show its sorry face in one of seven nuclear lavatories on the premises of the Ike Cullen Co-op. It stands with its lingam, Dutch-to-the-wind, wound up, inflamed, but even so, tolerably accoutered. In the zone of which we take our implausible sand for what it so manifestly is: a green-horn's only excuse for failing to evacuate a semi-porous stone from the bowels of iniquity. This is what it might get you if no one takes care to strengthen the bonds of infantile germinaries. Only on the side sporting green and gold stripes could you ever expect to encounter a spiteful replica of Madame Tussaud's waxy prolapse. This should inspire an all-hands con-fab. But only if we can arrange for malleable toreadors to threaten the lifestyles of discomfited nabobs the world over. Otherwise, there will be no choice but to extract the remaining filth from the core of a hypotrophic wastrel. Please don't think that this could mean anything other than a miniature farling placed 'just so' under the watchful eyes of a vengeful bailiff out for blood in the light of a puerile maw. Does everyone have what they need to get started?

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