A day in the long life of a short time.

"...'blathersnort'." she finished.


The man standing across from her simply stared at her blankly, so she covered him in Elmer’s glue.


As she walked past her handiwork she didn't even register that this was the 17th time she had done this today. Always it's a man. She doesn't bother confronting women. She knows that they will simply respond with "Blue cheese on motorcycle helmets smell like crayons."


Walking down the street in her favorite sunshine flavored underpants she ignored the stares of the large packs of orangutans that had been milling around the city since last month.


She continued down the block and as she turned the corner she came upon another person but was not able to determine if they were male or a fragrant clown. They were dressed in sharply pressed blue polyester, covered in ribbons and wore an official looking hat. What really confused her was that the person was riding a bicycle shaped like a 6 legged horse.


She had nothing better to do now that her supply of 19th Century collector baseball cards had been stolen so she approached this odd person. As she came near, she greeted this oddity by continually beating them around the head and neck all while they rode their wheeled horse around in a perfect octagon. After 20 minutes the Polyester Queen turned to her and asked, "Please tell me why there are nine planets in our solar system but only six lumps of firewood in my Kool-Aid."


She spent the rest of her summer vacation trying to understand what the Queen wanted and she was almost too late. As the Queen's hand rose above her head in preparation of pouring molten ice cream on her, she let out a squeal of delight. She understood. She had finally found someone that would be able to answer her question.


Quickly she replied "I know that marriage is like a week old spam sandwich on a warm summer night but I don't understand why everyone feels that the length of a man's pinky sounds like an ant farm sliding down a conveyer belt while the shop foreman screams 'blathersnort'."


For this the Queen paused.


Slowly the Queen twisted the horsy bike away and turned to the girl while pressing the small yellow button on the control box that was pinned to the handlebars. From under the girl’s feet the ground opened up revealing a deep pool of orange Jell-O. As the girl silently sank into the pool she felt a calm sense of overstated egoism overwhelm her.


And as I rode past my handiwork it didn't even register that this was the 18th time I had done this today.