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There Is No Way To Know But Many Ways To Tell

The blob-fish queen ate herself yesterday, but if you look at the plaid shadows the windows cast, you can still see her in the lines they form. A maniac at heart, none of us will ever drink to her memory, so instead we cast fishing nets over her castle to celebrate todays community-wide holiday. Her administration stole a third of the worlds trees (her ancestors probably made the moon look the barren way it does too, if history holds up) and most people looked the other way in their attempts to rejoice in the aesthetic of it all: blob-fish are not without beauty, whatever Google may say, just like scorpions are not without gentleness.

Earlier this century, shortly following the beginning of the tree-plunder, a fool and his tasty snacks gave birth to the most repulsive monarch butterfly. Chicken tender wings with a cyanide tail. Camera eyes and lies for legs. Banknotes where the mouth is supposed to be. Repulsive! That king will need to ebb in the end, too (for the sake of the abolition of plaid shadows.)

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