It was with a heavy heart that the Lady Amadaela

of mine, this sweet child of mine. Oh where do we go? Where do we go now? Sweet child o' mine." Said Lady Amadaela.

"Lady Amadaela, at this stage of the game it's Canasta under lobster lights, all the way down." Orik Vesprae set up a patio as their cosmos of origin faded. "We should invite

more crustaceans au jeu, they're so easily trumped & make such lovely ornaments" cackled Orik. Lady Amadaela feigned a simper as she hid a couple of jumbo prawns in her bustier

. Orik noticed this. "My dear Amadaela, allow me." He carefully inserted a dozen jumbo prawns into her bustier with their heads poking out. "Delightful! But your coiffure

needs work. He deftly braided squid arm extensions into her tresses. A sardine ballroom dress & moray eel boots completed Amadaela's look. She was ready for the Dead Seaman's Ball

. Dabbing just a bit of ambergris behind her gills, Amadaela was now ready to have a whale of a time at the Dead Seaman's Ball. She slipped into her clam carriage & arrived just in

Time to see Treefingers arrive. "Hiya!", Treefingers said. Amadaela hadn't seen Treefingers since he learned how to completely disappear from Thom Yorke, his dear friend and mentor

in arcane matters. "Did your father sand you in salty airs", kept playing in my head as I conga'd in my ridiculously long orange sarong. Fingers (to the beat) 1st point up, palm up

, then point down as feet shuffled out to sea, careful not to become entangled in the sarong. When the waves went over my head I was gone. What's sarong about that?