Intermission: The Pineapple Dance of the Last Ninja.

Flying cows are one thing, but maybe someone should have told the postman not to bury that human foot where anyone might steal it. Still, it'd be a shame to waste it now, so here's a poem called Apple Pie.


Apple Pie.

Is it Thursday already?
My ice cream smells more like
Saturday
Two weeks ago,
And the chocolate sprinkles
Spell out
DANGER.
(In morse code.)

The weasels have left,
And I can't see
My ears any more.
Maybe I
should
Buy a mirror,
But I've spent my
Life savings on
A toothpick and a pair
Of whypslovens.
(Cheap at just 4 monthly installments of £99.99! Order yours now, and get a set of steak spoons absolutely free!)

And when someone suggested
Painting go-faster stripes
On all my myrmidons,
My life
Had a purpose once more.
But now my
Red marker pen
Has run away with
The Stapler,
And I am
Purple again.

At least I still have the sea!
No, wait, I don't--
Someone pulled the plug
Yesterday.

Damn it!