On an very gay day no where near May. The esteaming Mods of the square table convened at said square table via incredibly accurate laptop devices (though frightfully small) and decided on whether or not poetry is poetry, and the air is breathable, and a whole other list of irelivantly jejunum linkings of the abnormally perversified and outrageously Billy-spanked. King Kevi -- Well what of this bugger Horus8? Has he gone and caulked the lamb cow twice this month? Cuntesssenator -- I hate that fucker, he wrote Sypholus on his trunk, illegally flipped his asswagon and was caught speeding on speed. Oh, and he pointed at my arsehat. Monk Maven -- You say he did whot? Thot's odd you know because he prays at church, and is a really likable twat, poor bastard. King Kevi -- Hmmmm, Hmmmm, Hmmmm. We see that he his preoccupied counting his muled money and getting the biggest blow job ever by a lipsticked viking with some posh flaming angel user name. (just pick one.) King Kevi -- Well then, lets fuck him, beat him, fuck him, beat him, give him tickets to the circus and send him with taintedtanya 27 from West Virginia, you know the one with the shaved parrot and the broken garbage disposal. Cuntesssenator -- PunchesPilot caught him yesterday handing out free arsehats to the poor, and banned him from the laundry chute. I can't go on with him around. Yesterday he told me to "flush twice"? A wheeping Saint comes and delivers the tea and soggy biscuits. A tree arrives carved all to hell and birching. FairMaidenAnne -- (knowing sweet horus8 his really her and king kevi's ilegitamate son tries to save her spawn) [inching up her dress] But the people love horus8 he's a hero, a champion of whores, the mailman, the ice-sculptor? Just last year he saved the kingdom of poetry from itself... King Kevi -- Yes, but he's too handsome and talented. Could we fuck him up a bit? You know, put him in the donkey cage? Bang his coconuts a tad? Dumb him done a little? Fine him a potato and put him to the dishes, carry on. Cuntesssenator and PunchesPilot clearly unhappy... Disappear into the church to fuck on the Jesus Christ rack and conspire against their own genitalia, and the abuse of monopoly money. King Kevi returns to his fried lama leg, and FairMaidenAnne sends word to our hero via passenger bus to the land of the Banned. There we find Horus8 singing "I Will Survive" at Kareokee night at the Spuna Whistle, the spunostles are there and the Werewolves, and many other ten year old drunks and 40 year old virgins, and all are raving to queer disco and clearly boogie-ing down for poetry. To be Cont...