Hurry! Wrap the coffin with blood soaked

Hurry! Wrap the coffin with blood soaked string! Quickly! light sage incense! and now for the sticky rice! INSTANT?

Quick quick! Some canesugar and now brush the embers over it. Yes yes. Already does it smell of puffed rice. I love's me a beefy sugarsmacks bear forearm.

Slow slow! Drizzle honey and scorch the surface with a sweet glaze. No, no. Disregard the burning smell of burnt sugar. I hate's me a wasted opportunity to ingest a ....

Flambé. But with a plus. A substitution you could say. Cannabutter instead of butter. This dessert will put us in Paradise in about 45 minutes to an hour after ingestion. Mind you

don't trip on the stairway, and be sure to keep your harp strings well-waxed, or whatever it is you do with string instrument strings. Tonka trucks are inexplicably roving the

aisles at the grocery store humming. They were humming the hum of numerous Tonka trucks roving the aisles. It seems stupid but we were terrified. Maximum Overdrive came to mind.

Only in this case it was Minimum Overdrive, since the trucks were so tiny. Still, it was very treacherous trying to maneuver across the aisle to the soup section while they ran

over all the dust bunnies. Poor dust bunnies. No need to cry. though; they had to get the soup. What kind were they after again? Tomato soup? Sure. They'll collect as many of those

as they can. After all, soup was the goal. We are all just soup in the end. We are little bits and peices of expeinces and relationships and tranfiguations blended together.