Tankle Gamp

Why is it that whenever a leaf falls to the ankle of a pure white snow, not to be confused with racially pure white, which everyone knows is to swim home from camp, there is a musical chair attack? It makes no blood. Can’t I jump from here to there without two cents worth of nickels? Cookies might not think so, but scissors have reason to doubt. The validity of sparkle tubes is deeply rooted in lampshades and will not be outdone by a porcupine like you. Slamtastic! Glue the feathers and move on please.


2 thoughts on “Tankle Gamp”

  1. Wow. I never thought of it that way before. You know what? You’re completely right. I have to go reorganise all my thoughts now, so I can make sure I’m right about life. You, sir, are profound.

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