"Recommend thyself to God!" cried the doughty knight-errant, after a quixotic pleonasm about beautiful maidens and redressed wrongs, "for the devil will fain feast on your piebald conscience-- unless that slinky-dressed moron over there with the neon kitten-heels stops ruining the cut and gets off the set!" (Never hire Christian Bale!)
Peter the Polemic Polymath was not invited to his brother's wedding, perhaps because he turned last year's environmental function into a bacchanalia as he was attempting to prove that alcohol was the greater societal hazard of modern times, or perhaps because he had a cantankerous urge to flaunt his aptitude in memorizing classics as soon as the opportunity occaisioned it, or perhaps because his taste in music was more eclectic and less maudlin than the nonsense usually chosen by the host, something that in his mind warrants direct action, or perhaps because he didn't want to go, as he was in the midst of pondering over whether Asian crickets' legs were in simple harmonic motion in the same frequency as American ones.
That swelling has got some panache, Hector the Harlequin thought to himself, appearing unannounced this gloomy Friday morning, recalcitrant to granting any solace from itching and scratching; indeed, considering the occasion he could imagine far more fortuitous disfigurements, since sporting a tumor-like brow when playing the shrewd trickster has yet to rid itself of its status as being a trait a whit too heterodox.
Mark was stricken with surprise, becoming the engineer of his own demise, by taking that soothsaying gypsy's advice - or "gitana," the rather bizarre word she preferred - on his aluminium wedding; apparently it was not an appropriate anniversary felicitation, to across marital boundaries be treading, by sending a charismatic invitation, resulting in his and his wife's sister's bedding, he realized while his limbs transfenestrated, pondering why the present was not apt, pondering the mess "trying new things" had created: perhaps she had wanted it gift-wrapped?
The senator left his audience awestruck, his ideas revolutionary and fresh, his diction glabrous yet eloquent, his affluent charm as good as his words in limning the novel projects he had planned for the area, and as the audience's rictuses silently replied to his autoschediastical wit, the man wallowed in the view.
The captain never was too fond about ideas from the deckhands - no, ever since the crab incident four years ago which left him artiodactylous we'd seen a swift change of persona; now a panjandrum who never missed an opportunity to impose his martinetish edicts on the men - and he was met with loath obedience when decreeing a circumnavigation around the island, just to ascertain that it really was crabless.
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