The 'definitive' Binnerva Studies document.

 

We've got to be pinching ourselves that the character of Binnerva Marfin-Tacksul is based on a progenitor race of Common Todds. They are said to not become depleted by the wind which is to be expected in a desert arena. Certain of our caregivers relate an account of prodigious slamming of dimpled cups while the phantom boys seek direction in a way which invites any kind of wreckage from implicating a Rector who enters our bungalow for a ride into town. We give each of them a stolen key which unlocks a sunroom door in the back of our least pleasant field. There they will find a ring of carpeted tunnels which open out into the last breezeway to be decorated with plaster icons of traditional personhood. All the veinage is intact and kept liquid to prepare for oncoming particles. The study of electrons is not to be fooled with unless one is keeping company with the older founders of the Junger Dineastes.  Then you can ask that your own hair be admired, even imitated, if the price accords with the expectations of this type of launch.

Each time a Binnerva has been catalogued in recent years, I have sent my daughter into hiding on the Warner Bros. lot. She found that by withholding prestigious co-hab segments from those dreaming up the marching orders for a legendary foe, she could steal herself for a minor dispute with an uncontaminated opponent. It helps that she reminds people of the kind of person will only appear to pretend to not disagree. In reality her hand can be remarkably steady if portions are controlled for solvency of abreaction. I know from my own experience that her hellish stare keeps uniformed bystanders occupied with guidelines set by a secret committee and marshalled into notorious effect through brimming enthusiasm. I think you've read my mind. It shows on the eyelids. Nothing like that ever lies, despite what some may have told you.

We plan on barging through a frontier capsule and strewing fenicular placemats in the direction we face to avoid memorizing dreary testaments to luxury condo demolition. Their one hope is that our piecemeal amplification will allow felicitous minstrels to seal our bow. No one can be certain whether of if the dream of sugary transcranial bastards can tweak the internal controls into summoning pendastronal steer-flies. The brim should be adjusted for maximal foam. Without that, our semi-permeable membranes could be in for a tough go of it. We will send a person in our stead if it come to that. Please prepare a book for this purpose. Any colors must be approved in advance. Our name cannot be relieved until any of the auteurs get here. Now, all bands can slip our plantlet. Sound is optional. Smell.

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