Wednesday, February 18, 2015


The horns of the pedestrian jazz funk band, tired of the daily embarrassment at being part of such an insipid spectacle, turned on their players and devoured them. Oh, what a sight it was to see the steel stretch, as if suddenly molten, to chomp away at these fellows. Soon there was nothing left but their funny little hats. The horns, now crazed with bloodlust, headed for the sculpture department.

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