gold-starred fringe elementals. maybe there?s a bacon golem or a gromit golem lurking in the woodshed (avast ye curvy logs!) and guess who?s coming to dinner?
no, it?s not some latter-day faust with his hat on screwy (knock knock, who?s there?, faust, faust who? who?s on faust? could it be gretchen? no, it?s probably just mephistophelesey, that mountebank!)
it?s huggerbuggeur, the wildly gyrating hallucinateur!
what?s he hallucinateuring about these days? only three slapdashical imagineering cousins and their wickedly semaphorical delays and stopgap patronages (if only we had a very important personage, one with feet and a happy-go-lucky demeanor, to make us cordless sandwiches and draisy drinks).
to some, the messages fly faster than furiouser: what?d the thing do to the thing to make the thing go so spinny? it?s bound to be a squoiter.