The Winking Brown Eye Of Truth

My beard is full of scrambled eggs and ketchup. The hand that still has feeling hurts. The other is long gone. But I need more ketchup. “Successful grapple! If so, move the bottle of ketchup directly over your head while rotating it so that the pouring spout faces to your left,” I think to myself. Then slowly, I begin singing “Anticipation”, and moving no faster than the ketchup in that old commercial moved, I manage to get the rubber band around my wrist and the ketchup bottle. Successful grapple, indeed.

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