"In the meadow we could build a snowman,"

"In the meadow we could build a snowman," Keith sang with a twinkle in his eye, "And pretend that he is parched and brown." Jill just stared at him.

"If he's says 'Are you carrying?' we'll say no man, but you can incite the mob with great renown." Keith continued. Jill released her mittened hand and backed away. Keith: "What?"

"That's not how it goes! What kind of carol is this?" exclaimed Jill. But Keith continued "Later on we'll conspire. We'll pour the gas and light the fire. In case of a raid

<he winked> "just blame the maid, walking in a flaming wonderland!" <big smile>. "My God," gasped Jill. "That's ghastly!" Keith frowned, "OK, well how about

this?" And Keith leaned forward, subtly lifting a butt cheek and cracking a real thumper. Keith said, "It singed my nut hair a little." <bigger smile> Jill plugged her nose beca

exited the Juvenile Hijinks Ward and skipped across the hall into the Department of Serious Interiors, the aged institution from which came fashion statements such as

Devo but devo decided to WHIP IT whip it good then all of Devo's Cthulu cult dead

in their graves, rose up. They all were brandishing flaming hell whips and began to whip Devo with extreme predjudice. There was no stopping the squid-like

monsters because there were no stop signs left. But it could've been worse. Had Devo brandished a yield sign, the octopussies would be whipping him in slow motion.