Amorphous Shallow Rainbow Ruminations Gurgled Their Listerine

Anthony, Doug, Jeremy, Leisa, Warren

3rd July, 1990

It was a brisk morning that morning. The house was quiet, beyond the usual sound of the coffee percolator gurgling and chuckling to itself. If it hadn't been for the overwhelming amount of dust that had accumulated behind the cabinet overnight, the Giggleberries might never have found out about the wild party the night before, which had been thrown by hundreds of drunken dust mites. In an alcohol-soaked frenzy of delight, they'd performed self-immolation which also destroyed the mattress which was their home. Their relatives, in the next bed, were watching, horrified as Jane threw Donnie out of the house during the latest episode of `As the Nerd Twirls' - their favourite nightime soap.

Meanwhile in Egypt, Het-Ptah was giving a tour of the Pyramids when a sudden downpour of acid rain dissolved them, causing a running, bubbling stream of carbonated water to wash him away. Luckily this wasn't central New South Wales, where a recent flood had caused such a commotion that most of the party had fallen out of bed. Who knows what marvels awaited him in his new hydrolised state. Just to cut the suspense, let's say he was washed down a drain. Returning to the bed, that soaking wet broken down vehicle of exhaustion, the mites had a lovely long swim, and there was even a hot-tub over the embers.

In the corner the coffee percolator giggled. It knew what was about to happen! Suddenly, there were ruminating amorphous reflections everywhere, kind of like the begining of a dream sequence. Then a voice spoke which seemed to come from all places at once. The voice proclaimed that everyone involved had to pack up and move in with Ruth Buzzy. This was the voice of unreason, and hence nobody heard it over the usual traffic at that hour of the morning. The Voice continued on with red light specials, and the next train to Dubbo leaves at 9:15, and was booked out as the long weekend was approaching, as was the end of the sentence, which was long overdue. At last the crowd of shoppers was safely installed in their train, and peace returned once more to the city. Little did the shoppers know that the twelfth vice president and eastern central divisional manager of Macy's were plotting a scheme to do what no large departmental shopping enterprise had ever done, they were going to introduce the first ever line of environmentally-safe nappy liners. This shocking revelation led to several manifestations of the word `three', and caused the now idle percolator to turn into a one way street from the wrong end, with predictable results.

Steaming coffee splashed in all directions, and reacted with the bleach used in the not-so-environmentally-safe nappy liners, which caused a tremendous explosion which hurled, in all directions, a large group of nappy liner chemical engineers that just happened to be in the area which was a fitting twist of fate that had been long delayed, much like the end of this sentence. All this was of great significance to Abu since he himself once was a baby, although he had grown out of it. In all, and indeed serependitious, probability, the blast had no effect on the surrounding pasture, and the cows quite happily went back to eating Anja's kneebrace, which was surprisingly tasty due to its coverage in chocolate sauce.

Alex, who was mysteriously married to Mary-Sue, divorced her so he could indulge his passion for coffee. The percolator was quite pleased with this turn of events and immediately eloped with Mary-Sue, much to Alex's chagrin. This also upset Anja a great deal since she had made coffee so many times in her career. Anja and Alex decided that because Anja was married to Patrick, Alex should just stick to being monogamous. Patrick was relieved, and gave a sigh as he was leaving the oppressive building. He'd hoped to reserve for himself the pleasure of de-bunking Anja: her oft-repeated invocations of 'eternal vows', 'real commitment' and 'meaningful dialogue' had engendered a real and meaningful antipathy within Patrick's eternal soul, and he meant to express this in no uncertain terms. It added satisfaction to know that he'd now be insulting that wimp Alex, too, and that satisfaction was expressed by his shooting himself.

Meanwhile, (as the previous author wrote a paragraph in it's own right!) the corpse lay there, oddly enough, reciting Blake poems. Several super-intelligent giant caterpillars happened by caterwauling about how the corpse had fallen catercorner across their path. They simply ate the corpse, but it was full of caterpillar-killing poison, so they died.

Meanwhile, in the nearby village, several vicious head-banging orphans had overturned a school bus, and were undoubtedly going to burn the driver as a sacrifice to propitiate the ghost of the wimp, who had been haunting this mob to distraction. There was a brief lull as they dismembered the bus down to component parts and threw them at each other, and then the petrol tank was ceremonially split and they dragged the screaming driver, bound hand and foot with fairy floss to the nearest Macdonald's. The forced consumption of a Big Mac, fries and sundae was more than enough to cause the driver's demise.

Meanwhile, this author is still wishing the previous one didn't quite write so much, and this had the effect of making the story much longer than the universal overlords would approve of. These universal overlords are a strange race of multi-dimensional beings, much like Wayne Newton, who go around performing the most hideous things like just existing. Because of this, the Galactic Justice ordered a genocide law, and they all died, thus allowing the story to continue at it's own merry pace.

In the park across the road, Ozalp was barking loudly at the petite blue-furred bitch carefully strutting across the small stretch of park that avoided the view of the garbage tip beyond. The two had agreed to make much noise of disagreement when ever they met, though in fact they were siblings from the same litter. Her name was Ozlib, of course, so we should break here for a brief brief from our sponsors:

Well that was, at least, brief.

Several large table saws were zizzering to themselves in a corner. It was a big house, but it had become considerably smaller on account of the table saws who were the new owners. The real estate dealer had been loath to allow them to move in, but they had threatened to cut his legs if he didn't. Suffice it to say, the next morning saw the new tenants sipping champagne cocktails on the sunny balcony, enjoying the sunny view in the sunny sunshine, of sunny fields, distant hills, and, immediately below the balcony a sunny garden decorated by two sunny legs. Well, rather pallid sunny legs. The new tenants had arrived.

``Well, Juli, what will we do for lunch?'' asked the gleaming-pated kneebrace. There was no answer, as noone really wants to be seen speaking to a kneebrace. Typical... Meanwhile, Alex was relaxing by the seaside , the flow of blood now staunched. Overhead, Anja circled back for another, hopefully more successfull attempt at landing, as her last attempt had resulted in a large pool of mud, splashing the walls with Listerine. Outside, in the shed, the amorphous rainbows, all of whom were very shallow, ruminated away in a desperate attempt to get into the story somewhere before the end. Hence they surreptitiously gargled their Listerine and called a halt to this silliness.