Friday, October 7, 2011

more from Peter T. Sheeple...

I had a dreadful hangover…

And found myself confronting a short furry thing with big claws and purple tentacles around its nose. "'Morning," it said.

"Blaga," I said.

"Sorry about ringing the bell, but I wanted to get you walking around a bit. Sober you up. And besides, it makes for verisimilitude."

"Erfulga," I said.

"Shall we go into the kitchen?" it said, and glided off like whats-his-name's ghost in that play by ole Billy-Bob Shakespeare where Lady Mac ventilates people with sharp objects a lot.

I paused. Clearly, this was not going to be one of my better days. When the hallucinations start getting that elaborate, well, red sky at morning and batten the hatches and all hands on deck. We're in for a touch of the nasty.

Still, at least this one was polite. Not like that snotty pink elephant that keeps making those crushing remarks about my stamp collection.

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