Chan Chan exited the alleyway into the street.

Chan Chan exited the alleyway into the street. The glowing outline of the Needle shot up behind the sillhouette of smaller buildings in the ever murky Shanghai skyline. Buildering

was a strange word that Chan Chan had heard, "Buildering." It was a word of the Evil Architect club. It mean more than "building" it meant taking blue prints and pressing them

into giant blue sponge cakes, which could then be consumed to improve one's understanding of architecture. The more you ate, the bigger the erection. ... of a BUILDING, you jerk!

Oh, those dirty-minded Smurf architects. They scarfed down the blue sponge cakes greedily and then got straight to work. Erecting the world's tallest Communist headquarters was

exhausting, especially when it was demanded that it be in the shape of a large erect penis. Though, to a smurf, three inches is huge. Nonetheless, the building was erected using

toothpicks and masking tape. PapaSmurf looked at it, and something wasn't right. He pulled out the SmurfGirl magazine, to see if the building was anatomically correct & guess what

he continued to glue and paint hoping his efforts would transform his failure. Dreaming of smurfs can be a dangerous game. Too much and you can catch blueitis. The symptoms are

blue tits, I think. Sure enough he noticed a crowd of them around his peanut feeder the next morning. He knew the smurfs weren't far behind and it'd turn ugly. He took the canvas

and scribbled frantically. He really ought to have gotten a video camera. It's not as artistic, but it's hard to capture motion with a drawn still image. Few cartoons film live.