I am a sentient idea, with no physical form

I am a sentient idea, with no physical form of my own. I spread from mind to mind, never fully controlling my hosts, but subtly influencing their actions so that they collectively

fart loudly in public areas. When I am satisfied, I spread to other minds, since my contagious sentience knows no bounds. I am the ultimate sentient idea. Even better than the idea

of sliced bread pudding. Well that was a pretty good idea but it wasn't original. Sliced bread came before that and well, sliced bread pudding was sort of the next step. Now

if we're going to talk desserts it's important to remember the historical context. Pudding didn't happen by accident. New ground-breaking studies point to evidence that

the Chinese art of P'u Ting flourished from the T'ang-dynasty salons to the Qing aristocracy. By the beginning of the Opium Wars, the British needed new desserts to entertain

themselves as they commoditified the fruits of the poppy. Trade was one thing but this was going to raise the stakes for everybody. The Third Kingdom could not let this happen.

So the third player threw his cards using an outta-this-world ability beyond gracefulness into the other players' hands. He loses poppies, but total fruit catastrophe isn't likely.

The oranges, strawberries, blueberries and pomegranates survived intact. A smoothie was made with them using the Master's Vita-Mix. The monks drank it for breakfast, in unison.

in Greogorian Chant they said, "OHMMMMNNNMMMM!" as they sipped in between each breathe.

It is a well-known fact that monks know how to make the best ale and brandy, but few know how easily they can be drunk under the table. When they all had passed out, I tiptoed out.