THE TRUE AND TRAGIC TALE OF SAMUEL SMILES, FRIEND AND PATRIOT
Samuel was charming and discombobulating all at once. He smelt of old peanuts and sassafras. I would have sworn that his bald head reflected the sun with the same ease that I cook up a batch of spinach marshmallow paté on a brisk summer morning out in the ol' back forty. When he spoke, his voice was like nails penetrating the surface of a serene pond... very slowly. Thought danced above his head like cheerleaders from the Mohave Desert, and I could sense more than a little decadence in his feet.
Oh! They were remarkable feet; such feet I have never before seen in my entire lifeling, for his left foot was surely connected to his right leg, and his right to his left, so that his big toes were the toes of the center, and his pinky toes those of the OUTSIDE. It brought to mind that autumn I spent in Paraguay, where the roses are redder than bananas, and the villagers perpetually and sempiternally (nocturnally_ _ _)belched my name in hearty welcome. But I digress...
Samuel Smiles was friendly and generous for a native of this island. And what more: he spoke my language!: The good old King's American. We conversed at length about the history of the televised episodes of Wheel of Fortune and then confabulated about the dark and controversial 'secret episodes' that were never aired (and that CBS indubitably does not want anyone to know about). Friends were made at once (them being he and me), and he promptly spit into the sand and shook my hand, and I was sure I had yet another follower in my (Alvin Stomack, friend and founder of my way of life's) ways.
As we ambulated the amber, enchanting sunsparkled path back to my BAMBOO CITY
he showered me with joyful badenage, and asked me about the spyglass that hung from my belt of hemp. I explained to him that it was my own inventive creation, but that it did not work properly and that everything appeared further away rather than closer (the penultimate aim of such a device as a helescope). "Ah, that be simple," he said, and without pausing to ask my permission-O, bane to those who seek denial rather than admittance! for it would have only impeded his aims and mine (which involved learning the language of the snails) had he had such manners-popped the lens out of the casement and fitted it back in. But this time... the other way around. I tried it again, and it worked perfectly; I could clearly see Nancy Reagan hailing a cab in Albuquerque, New Mexico. O, fabrous day, I am amazed! The whole time, the lens had been in backwards! Who woulda thunk? *smiles*
SMILES
Oh! They were remarkable feet; such feet I have never before seen in my entire lifeling, for his left foot was surely connected to his right leg, and his right to his left, so that his big toes were the toes of the center, and his pinky toes those of the OUTSIDE. It brought to mind that autumn I spent in Paraguay, where the roses are redder than bananas, and the villagers perpetually and sempiternally (nocturnally_ _ _)belched my name in hearty welcome. But I digress...
Samuel Smiles was friendly and generous for a native of this island. And what more: he spoke my language!: The good old King's American. We conversed at length about the history of the televised episodes of Wheel of Fortune and then confabulated about the dark and controversial 'secret episodes' that were never aired (and that CBS indubitably does not want anyone to know about). Friends were made at once (them being he and me), and he promptly spit into the sand and shook my hand, and I was sure I had yet another follower in my (Alvin Stomack, friend and founder of my way of life's) ways.
As we ambulated the amber, enchanting sunsparkled path back to my BAMBOO CITY
he showered me with joyful badenage, and asked me about the spyglass that hung from my belt of hemp. I explained to him that it was my own inventive creation, but that it did not work properly and that everything appeared further away rather than closer (the penultimate aim of such a device as a helescope). "Ah, that be simple," he said, and without pausing to ask my permission-O, bane to those who seek denial rather than admittance! for it would have only impeded his aims and mine (which involved learning the language of the snails) had he had such manners-popped the lens out of the casement and fitted it back in. But this time... the other way around. I tried it again, and it worked perfectly; I could clearly see Nancy Reagan hailing a cab in Albuquerque, New Mexico. O, fabrous day, I am amazed! The whole time, the lens had been in backwards! Who woulda thunk? *smiles*
SMILES