I carefully carried the moonbeams home in

I carefully carried the moonbeams home in my bra. After a night out swinging on a star I found the moonbeam in a jar. I considered feeding the moonbeams to my fish but

they preferred to eat each other in the darkness of their aquarium castle's. I showed the moonbeams to my friend, Lupus, who began howling and tearing off his clothes. I should've

not done that, I realized too late. Stuffing the moonbeams back into my bra, I tried to get away from the howling Lupus, but the moonbeams shot out of my nipples like flashlights &

wow, let's just pause at that. Moonbeams were shooting out of my nipples. Amazing, majestic, miraculous. You'd think it would burn, but it was cold, like frozen Cool Whip really.

I was lying on my bed watching the moonbeams from my nipples play back & forth across the ceiling like search lights, when they both locked onto a disembodied hand crouching in the

nether regions of the night. Billowy clouds of flack appeared around it as the anti-disembodied hand batteries sprung into life, tracking it's movements & trying to bring it down.

Stuck in the fray, the hand decided to toss out it's previous atheism and pray. At once, The Giant Slapping Hand of Allah appeared and smote all the hand's attackers in one fell

smack, flashed the hand a thumbs up, and disappeared into the heavens. That was great, thought the hand, but atheism is the best. Parking is free at their churches.

Meanwhile, the One behind the scenes abides in blissful appreciation of Its Cosmos. "This combination of ratios, echoes, and correspondences is flowering well, It muses." On Arctur