Sadly the pepper dies. The debate that follows leaves the olive oil upset. Six days follow
w/ no dawn – so it’s like, twelve nights, for those keeping score. Although painful we scoop the debates into tiny supermarket trollies. Defining us as hunchbacks the debates make it hard for us to live, even though they are tiny – maybe even smaller than ants that live in the gravel in the summer time. And if that wasn’t bad enough the tiny debates overheard what I just said about the ants and are now making sure we have no ants next summer. It’s all a little unnecessary, if you ask me.
no oneʼs an arsehole
when theyʼre dead