Down in the village
one day, Peep and Florentina were buying some chitlings and Shropshire Blue for
lunch, when, as they were leaving the Great Victual Emporium Peep happened to
notice the small retail sea-creature
outlet on the other side of the muddy trench which passed for a road, which boasted the pround legend:
"Not," (Peep commented, being in that sort of mood) "entirely true."
"What they really mean is:
" ........................................ " Or perhaps,"(he continued, being in a conciliatory mood towards the retail trade in general that afternoon, in anticipation of Florentina's culinary skills being brought to bear on the giblets nestling snugly within his capacious pockets)
" A more appropriate designation would be: RECENTLY DEAD FISH
Flo could only nod her agreement, and contemplate a world where all advertisment offered up such honesty.
"Things may," she offered hopefully , "be on the up, as it were. Why, only yesterday(#when I was young#, whistled Peep, to Flo's annoyance) I was sippping on a medicinal creme de menthe down "The Fin" when I espied an ornate hoarding encouraging the vile peasants with the offer of:
Get Sloshed For Less!!
"Truth is Beauty", mused Florentina, "And Beauty is Truth" concluded Peep sagely. Our two protagonists enjoyed the oneness of the universe for a fleeting second.
"Crap beer, though," Peep noted.
Florentina nodded, and, order and sanity restored, our friends bundled their good selves and their chitlings into the comfortable interior of Florentina's Mountain-Yak cart, and returned to The Towers for lunch.
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