Flotilla Bathos was languishing in the windowless

Flotilla Bathos was languishing in the windowless desiderium one morning when the butler brought in her daily salmanazar of wine. "How is your prolapse today, madam?" "Chives, what

in the deuce are you wearing?" Flotilla Bathos asked as she lowered her prolapse onto a chilled bean bag chair. Chives, the butler, said, "A pimp suit madame."

"Well it goes well with your eyes Mr. Huggy Chives. Pimping must be in your blood. I saw it when you walked in here 20 years ago. That is why I had to keep you down. We didn't need

you to get any ideas about your future, which is why we decided to nip it in the bud. Squash it out before any idea formed in the first place."

Right then, I had the best idea I ever had about my future. "How about you shut the hell up!" I screamed right before I smothered the entire conversation with my goose-down pillow.

But no amount of scrubbing could remove the offending words from between the keys. I finally had to throw that laptop out. It cursed repeatedly as the trash truck hauled it away.

I kindly screamed, "Watch your language!" after the laptop and watched it fade into the distance, then sat down to eat a slice of pizza and unwind. And, of course, drink lemonade.

You can't just throw a laptop into the void and eat pizza without lemonade! It was just simply unheard of! Why, the very thought of it could land you in prison for thirty years if

you got caught, especially if you were unshaven at time of arrest. And the pizza and lemonade lobby in Washington was keen to report any such violations involving flung laptops.