This is not the commonly accepted version.

 

Only one moment before, even as I felt just a bit 'iffy', I motioned to the logician who had accompanied me that day, before any brigands were caught, branded and left to be fed with the others who we'd previously ignored, much to our collective peril. There's a dampness on the underneath part which could fool you, but only if you think that 'care' is something that comes in a package which arrives at a random interval, come what may. May I send you my leftover final minutes or has a breech been discovered while I overlooked our common enterprise at the direction of the chosen few? It won't get in the way as it used to because, quite frankly, we've been inspecting any type of container which melds to a species-specific ontology of lift-and-release. And that's not saying something that others would feel framed their tatters to an indigent disk. My pleasure.

When Third Father pronounced an underappreciated policy prescription to be forever null in a crappy void, I sometimes hear a vibrant bromide being splashed before a Rector whose deposit we've neglected to squirrel away from the various Archdeaconesses who fling my precious towels into a raging inferno of antique Barbara Larson Portable Stanchons. These were my final gift to a couple who managed to always appear shaken, even while they appealed to a bonded set of irregular particles it's been their pleasure to dissolve nightly at one. The very same gate that you've supplied to our chewdren is due for a much needed overhaul for the princely sum of one hundred dollars and ninety-nine cents. Some might aver that all who seek our bunting are due for a doubly pugilistic con-fab. It hurts when I say it like that, no?

Our intentions were never based on an unheralded potency; to be sure not even a wicked gimp would dare call the shots if anyone else had mottled quietly without our applause juicing the way. Forewarnings will not betoken a rise of incalculable penetrations of graduated base-line portents. We cannot refuse to NOT cast them into a shade of passive nuclear fistulence. Our love is a bracing caspinet, but no one will find that written anywhere but on that place of definitive ospints. Their one and only task is to ready our trap-force to incite the lucid creepers in their number to befall a standing waylay juncture before applying the final pressure mask to my indentured Slovak. They are all with us now. But this does not include any rapt fendrick trolls. It's time for your pill.

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