Once upon a time there was a wonderful man called Marty. His full name was Marty Awe Tia, and he was well-named, because all the good folk were in awe of how wonderful he was and how much he liked people and how much good he did for them all day and every day.
But, sadly, Marty had anemones. Whoops! Hang on--enemies, which is not a nice flower at all. It is a sad fact of life that even the nicest people get them horrid enemy thingies, plus all the lies and nonsense and nasty attacks filled with loathing that go with that getting.
The anemones that loathed Marty Awe Tia had some very weird pinions. For example, they opined that anyone who loves something because it is beautiful is just an emotional prat. Which means that wot they really think is that we have to chuck love out of the windbag to make a good decision. Obviously, there's no weirder pinion than that known to science or anybody. No one can stand up straight on pinions like that.
But even that weirdness was not enough for Marty Awe Tia's anemones. They loathed him so much that they made up a cunning plan to stretch him something terrible, fill him with concete, and turn him into an oogly place for parking rich guys' boats, thereby making lots luvvly moolah and the anemones filthy rich.
Fortunately, all Marty Awe Tia's friends got together to buy a humungous amount of Roundup to spray on the anemones and thus save him from being transmogrified into a monstrosity of the moolah-and-concrete kind.
Yay!
We hope.
But, sadly, Marty had anemones. Whoops! Hang on--enemies, which is not a nice flower at all. It is a sad fact of life that even the nicest people get them horrid enemy thingies, plus all the lies and nonsense and nasty attacks filled with loathing that go with that getting.
The anemones that loathed Marty Awe Tia had some very weird pinions. For example, they opined that anyone who loves something because it is beautiful is just an emotional prat. Which means that wot they really think is that we have to chuck love out of the windbag to make a good decision. Obviously, there's no weirder pinion than that known to science or anybody. No one can stand up straight on pinions like that.
But even that weirdness was not enough for Marty Awe Tia's anemones. They loathed him so much that they made up a cunning plan to stretch him something terrible, fill him with concete, and turn him into an oogly place for parking rich guys' boats, thereby making lots luvvly moolah and the anemones filthy rich.
Fortunately, all Marty Awe Tia's friends got together to buy a humungous amount of Roundup to spray on the anemones and thus save him from being transmogrified into a monstrosity of the moolah-and-concrete kind.
Yay!
We hope.
