Something else entirely
Anyhow... it appears that morale is low. Spirits are down. Our collective will to create yet more nonsense is flagging, waning, shirking its duty. I suspect it began with that picture of Hitler doing a bear, uh... bear style, during the winter of 1934. The collapse of the world economy didn't help either.
Appalachian round quartz samples were handed out like candy, to no avail. Alas, poor avail!
Anyhow, vampires can't have sex. [1] That's because they're dead. The cellists walked off the stage in disgust as it began to rain berries. National Guardsmen had to fill in at the last minute using 14.5mm bullets.
- Ook!
Rather than repeat the last section, I'll just recap by accusing Charles DeGaulle of blowing up the levees, thus causing the greatest catastrophe in Texas history. It brought a lump to his throat, so the orchestra gathered by the deposed president to eat Gummi Echidnas and ham. Fanged ham, of course.
Regarding the exploits of Michigan L. Frog, union organizers have accrued a hoard of calzones with which to mount a full-scale assault on Ladder G. Tuesdays will be reserved for counting the pregnant members of the flock. There will be no devouring of hyenadons. [2]
Lastly, go out and find the biggest cat you can. Entice it with kitty treats and coax it into a state of quantum entanglement. Spin one end to get the other end spinning in the opposite direction. Pre-treat all fabrics with continental drift foodstuffs and horny bat doctors.
The author now strokes his beard and cackles maniacally as he composes this last sentence...