Just then the Three Hags© burst forward in a cloud of stench, and in unison, croaked upwards, “Might we suggest what to do with Early Thursday, sire?”
King Bookpuddle looked down, squinting into the rising sun…. “Speak. But, into the microphone please, Hag #1.”
Said she, [with a short squeal of feedback] “Well, we’ve been sort of ruminatin’ as it were y’know sire, what with after readin’ Lord O’ The Flies© and all at last week’s Groprah Book Club© and what have ye, we figure it may be a jolly treat to hand-feed Thursday straight into the wormy jaws of Chester McPhartin’s rabies-infested black pig what’s got the syphilis also!”
And much scratching of beard.
Then, pointing His Royal Finger at the aformentioned pig, the King cried, “SO BE IT! AND AMEN TO THURSDAY MORNING!”
The Hags busied themselves, stuffing Thursday into the pus-filled pig, as the crowd cheered and sang out, “Oh King, with these shards of broken pottery we joyfully scratch thy Name into our chests and/or buttocks in a crazed frenzy!”
Have a great…..