Paul of Snarkus paced wildly, dictating as

Paul of Snarkus paced wildly, dictating as usual. His scribe snickered. "For it is not the mouth of a hermit that defiles him, but what his fingers type that defiles him." The glow

of his bald pate flushed with pride at his "Guide to writing diaries for Hermits". Paul of Snarkus continued as his scribe typed. "Employ a lacky of lowly station... Keep typing!

This article was inspired by Danielle's own grandmother, who started using a grocery delivery service.

Until the day the old women was found dead by the delivery boy. Danielle didn't

think she'd killed off enough stray cats to be in line for the inheritance. Danielle was still behind Whiskers, Puss 'N' Fluff, and 67 others. The childproof scissors weren't doing

the trick, so Danielle knew she had to get creative, but she was a product of public education and had those impulses quashed. 69 cats ahead of her in inheritance. A bowling ball

flung far too high from her dainty fingers could do the trick. After all, there was that basement bowling alley in the ancestral home. Danielle called the only person she could b

est get help from. The pointy toed sloths who primed the pumps with water to be purified were cheap labour. The big boss dared promote them, and they became good bowlers. It was

such a huge profit that he decided to capture, breed, and bioengineer these pointy toed sloths. No sloth liked this, but it was only centuries hence that they found the voice to