Spic and Span were tired of their clean image and decided to make a rumpus . Spic and Span hopped into their souped-up hot rod and burned rubber. They picked up the rest of the gang, Mike and Ike, Good and Plenty, and Arm and Hammer. They were up to no rth Indiana Ave before they realized they forgot Jack and Coke, Watson and Crick, and Surf and Turf. They'd need all hands on deck for tonight's shenanigans. Spic and Span knew next to nothing about Shenanigans. They were more in tune with malarky. M and M, now they knew Tom Foolery. Peanut Butter and Jelly were in charge of sandwiches. Baloney was also there in the deli drawer to make sure those allergic to Peanut Butter but not Jelly could have an alternative choice. Tom Foolery had strange tastes in sandwiches. Just in case of disaster, Tom Foolery kept a jar of pennies by the chamber pot. Some argued this was flirting with disaster. Tom Foolery said they were just friends. Tom saw her as a wonderful telepath, who had conversations with others brainwaves. To fulfill prophecies; she had a conversation with the Heavenly Father and Son. But this time God and Jesus were too busy with pandemics and stuff to return her call. "Guess I'll just have to make something up," she thought. "My prophecy for this week is that tomorrow, everything will seem bleak. It will seem like there is no way forward and nowhere to turn. But then the next day, everything will be turned on it's head and it will be unimaginably worse." Fluffy Marie hissed. "Oh good grief, Squeezebox! Someday soon we will all be quantum nano-kitties, responsible for our own circumstances. Cheer up!"



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