There was a time in my life when this might have worried me, but as I clawed my way to consciousness (after being roused by the American Pride Bark Blower) I recalled the hazy events of the day before.
Sorry to burst your bubble.
I fixed a drain and walked in the rain and frolicked with some faeries and made a deal with the devil and rode with a Firebird and a Holocaust Baby.
All in a days work.
But after that, young Blankenship and I made a supply foray under the sanguine sign reading only: Meijer; it was late in the evening and we found the necessary ingredients for our alchemy with alacrity.
Corn Syrup. Food Coloring. Dish Show. Red # 40. Chocolate Syrup. Fold-over Sandwich Bags.
A large fellow named Doug and a vigorous amount of shaking in a place the denizens call the Shindig were the last pieces to our puzzle.
We finished our work fairly early and I was whisked back to my casket just as the young ones came to sniff our progress. I hope D & C were able to protect their stores as we will need them tonight in the Oregon District as we shamble . . .
May your Friday bring you as much frivolity. And staining . . .