On the 3rd day I longed to make no excuse

On the 3rd day I longed to make no excuse for doing some worrying. I had been unable to think hard, fierce & vengeful since I was scared & oppressed with black burdens of thought.

My craving for smoked herring made my boss buy me some. "Take this and shut up so I can do my work!", he said. It was amazing I wasn't fired, Dr. Saturn told me the next day. There

were more than one strange coincidence that day. "Heard about Philip and his bird?", Saturn asked after a few bites. His sandwich seemed...

gassy, to say the least. "No.", I said as I munched on Martian soil. Saturn looked at me funny." Philip was savaged by his bird when he tried to feed it." "Wasn't it a sparrow?"

“No,” he said, “It was the last flying ostrich, I know you probably don't believe me but ostriches used to fly! Also,

pigs too, they'd flap around like headless chickens, which were also real by the way...

In my line of work I work a lot with perfectly spheroid chickens as well. Here for instance we are calculating the angle of incidence in an array of perfectly spheroid chicken.

Alternatively, we are calculating, how many people it takes the Earth to become a Perfect sphere, on it's Axis of 27.5. Earth has always been an Oblate Spheriod, but let's change

the menu a bit. Instead of perfectly spherical chickens in the stone soup we can substitute one Schrodinger's cat. Perfect for whatever level of dieting you are on. An inclination

of uncertainty came over them. As they would not really ever know if it was the Cat or the Chicken.