(Starts quietly
tiptoeing past the advertisement........................................................................................................)
Meaningless articles might spring, up out of nowhere, all the better to entrap the unwary idiot who might be daft enough to fall prey to their futile allure.
Meaningless articles might loom, with bloated transparent bodies and flailing tentacles, like a psychedelic, rainbow-spattered deadly octopus lurking in the literary ocean.
Who could escape their elephantine vastness, once fairly engulfed therein? "Not I", said the Cardboard Nun, astride her silver tricycle on the yellow lane to the Trombone Factory.
Bar billiards is best avoided while you creep along the alimentary canal of Labi Siffre.
Save yourself the trouble of a socially-crippling James Corden obsession. Avoid all those nasty mole-slaughtering chores. Settle down, drink this nice crayfish and listen to my favourite record, 101 Miniature Elephant Explosions In Stereo by The Heckmondwyke Lady Bagpipers with Enoch Powell on Jew's Harp.
What could be nicer, or more splendid?
