Let's tell a story four words at a time (Part 1)

. Specifically folded, spindled and

masticated, courtesy of the

nuns down the block.

Those wacky nuns! Why,

they even use rubber

baby buggy bumpers to

sell seashells by the

light of the silvery

third moon of Siluriantapalentreenuncophilabelida.

Descending Mt Olympus, I

pulled a groin muscle

while trying to hurdle

shuttle buses full of

tourists trying to see

the wacky nuns and

weirdo weasels, all covered

in lime jelly. Naturally,

this injury didn’t prevent

them from ripping my

bodice and exposing my