"Put it down there on the table, please.

"Put it down there on the table, please. I'm feeling so tired, so very very tired you see. You're so kind but I really must sleep now. So tired.

I gently laid down her prosthetic arm, glass eye, porcelain bridge, and horse hair wig on the bedroom table. What was left of her slept soundly.

I tiptoed back to where her remains slept and whispered, "Good night, Mrs Coconut." Then I threw an oxhide veil over her and went to call

and I, yes, I, world, behold it was I who put the lime in the coconut. I, the lowly Mr. Kiwi, squeezed lime on Mrs. Coconut. I had no idea the Fruit War this would start. Mr. Pawaw

And Mr. Lemonhead himself went oit to the nearest Whole Foods and bought Mrs. Coconut some cooking ingredients for a vegetable curry, Kerala style. Everyone ate together and

as a result, everyone suffered gastrointestinal distress together later that night while watching a bad Hungarian remake of "The Towering Inferno". Mr. Lemonhead felt that he was

finally at his most sour point. Mr. Lemonhead longed to be a Hungarian superstar and sing on their version of the Voice. He donned his spandex suit and headed out to

Budapest to get his fame and fortune. He got as far as the mailbox before he had to go back inside the house. The walk back through the north pasture reminded him of why he was in

dire need of transportation: a horse, hot air balloon, roller skates, unicycle...anything! This twenty-mile trip back and forth from the house to mailbox was not good for his gout!