This is such a shipwreck.

This is such a shipwreck.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. There's evidence that..." Peter said. Jules interrupted. "For God's sake, Peter, it's a ship at the bottom of the ocean. What we call a shipwreck."

"That reminds me," Peter interjected. "What lies at the bottom of the ocean and twitches? A nervous wreck! Get it, Jules?" At that moment, Peter could see the

slight annoyance in Jules' eyes, yet he was still very fond of the boy. He had a sudden urge to lean over and hug him, if that were at all possible, but he knew how ridiculous it

'd sound, "Could you attach some arms to my trunk so I can give you a hug yah big lug?" So Jules just sat in the chair, a big pink fairground bunny with some love to give. The boy

was glad to. Jeffrey forgot he was a golem made of magnetic sand, without soul or summoner, and used the conjure-man's sigil to grow new arms for Jules the pink fairground bunny. T

he thing was Jeffrey felt very real as if flesh and blood. He hadn't been around a long time but had come to experience much with Jules which is why he was able to use the sigil so

it stood to logic that if anything was real at all, at least, Jeff felt AS real as reality, although perhaps that idea was false and the sigil itself was an unreality, as was Jules

Verne's microbiotic vision of testicular modification vis a vis the matriarchal underpinnings of the Pre-Raphaelites. Taken at face value Jeff's concept of reality lacked it's own

truth, but it was not without its Oedipal foundation. Jeff went on to live a happy life of singlehood, at home, with his overbearing mother & his extraordinary art collection.