A reading from the Book of Horace the Moist Gribbling of Gesticulators

There was Plook.

There was a lot of Plook.

Wrapped in a slabbish roll of lefse...served to the delegates of the small island nation of Ornerylarryland...at first deemed an offensive gesture to Ambassador Rynot...a quick aside from his traveling stenographer Gareth the Scribbler soon set said offering in the proper light...a light akin the shimmering low wattage of an Easy Bake Oven.

Joe Don Baker (loaded to his imaginary non-gills/neck mudflaps with Jeno's Pizza Rolls with Extra Joe Cocker Ham soldered thereupon) smugly lowered his gaze earthward from his perch atop the Tree of Bbblllrrrggghh and grunted from his netherregions a foul squelched approval.

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