JJF says, "The winter saved them."
"Love equals pie! Love equals pie! I'm the Pretty Pie Girl! I'm the Pretty Pie Girl! I'm the Pretty Pie Girl!" Spins, dances, and chirps with her pals, biscuits and tater tots, in complex choreographies, harmonies, and frequencies, as only a computer animated burst of ESB (Electronic Stimulation of the Brain) can. "I'm the Pretty Pie Girl. Have a piece of pie!" Sure it's cute. It's so innocent it took a team of engineers, lawyers, and marketers four years and seventy million dollars to develop. Just the voice. "I'm the Pretty Pie Girl" It's no accident the song pounds at exactly 2.2 beats per second. You have no idea what kind of CIA/Water boarding went to find the magic number. Didn't just pull 2.2 beats per second out of my quahahnya. Let's call it the 'buy a maximum number of cookies' frequency. For us lay types, let's just say it's a catchy tune. Oh it's catchy, all right.
"The Lusitania, Fox, the coal bunkers exploded."
Then a different voice, a motherly, wise, honest voice interjects, "Mothers will be glad to know all Capsulsgrave Confections contain zero grams of trans fat per serving."
I say loudly, "You've got to be kidding me."
She says the words 'per serving' just slightly at a lower volume. Could The Great Whore have something to hide? Then she lies again, flat out in your face: "Always have, always will." Dirty witch. How can they get away with this?
The spoons dosidoe with butter pats, and the teapot plays tuba and the cookies play brass. First it goes to R&D which is code for Special Ops.
"I want my Mommy-Munchers!" Mommy-Munchers are some bastardtution of chocolate and cheese. "Take it from me. I'm the Pretty Pie Gir---"
"SHUT UP!" Strain my vocal cords. What I get for being mad. She got to me. The thought makes me even madder. Get so mad I scare myself. How to express such vehement hatredtution in human language?
Look out the window. I can see the Forget-Me-Not festival. It looks like so much fun. Why did I have to be in the hospital in the summer?
The attendant announces, "SMOKING." We line up, each get one cigarette. Did you ever see chimpanzees smoke? It doesn't take any brains. But don't judge. If people weren't so busy judging.
The smoking room is by far the most crowded, with more ashtrays than chairs. One has a huge mound of cigarette butts. It would make a sizable fire.