DOW Slug Hatchery

(October 2, 2015  —  continued from Page One)

paused and said quite candidly that he was unable to “get the little bastard” to come out. By the time the governor arrived for the schedules ribbon cutting the stubborn (and now perplexed) terrestrial gastropod mollusk had embedded itself securely to the intimate shade of Mrs. Wilshire’s knickers and seemed to be enjoying its new home. Governor Hickenlooper and his sidekicks from the All-Star Rockies’ infield, had little choice but to go in after him…which is precisely what he wanted.
Sadly, and to the chagrin of the assembled Nebraskan juveniles on extended summer break, the feat turned ugly and the “little bastard” disappeared for the ages down a small pleat/canal in Wilshire’s hoop skirt. A full disclosure will be printed in the next series of notes shared by the editor when, as close associates avow may be close to running out of port, matters stabilize. – Thumbelina Etchabarron

Filed Under: Reflections on Disorder


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