An alien came down from the tree. It parked its sled by the dinosaur. It crawled up to my uncle and said, "My brain is a phone, and my mother wants him to buy bread." My friend, who witnessed all this, said, "I can't see my spleen. I would ask that you not stand on my shadow."

By this time, the car was getting restless. It cried out in pain as its porcupine swam in the pudding. Then, from out of the nose, penguins rolled in, dressed in hospital gowns, singing. The maypole they were carrying was pink and quite heavy, and a legion of dwarves was worshipping it.

The pencils began to crumble. Cookies set alight the clay spire. Dancing chickens summoned forth the electric mouse with their irregular pulses of eggplant. Papers rose up from the buckets, lighting the way to the orchard. The blight had driven many to tomatoes, but now it was up to the dust bins to say when.

Failing that, the eyedrops would be the third to produce the sceptre while the coleslaw was being trampled. Neither the cup nor the window could be called upon to wash the rocks. No, only the basketball could cry.

And so it was. Water flew from lemon to lemon, bringing twist ties to the ice cream. All who were kneeling in the box would be blue forevermore.

Fin.

¶ 3:31 PM