Book of Wine & Seizures fabulation concerning the god of poultry products Chapter 2

The Journal of Provincial Thought

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Obscurity Inutility

Now by & by a great tent went up, and a shittimwood headboard inscriben with painter’s paint brewd of grassstain & rinosrus vitals; and the inscriptien readeth VPL, which signifyeth Varostril Pot & Likeness. And from outen this tent and three identicol which followd came forth upon the world a bombardament of earth and mortor, formd as pots & busts & stachoos & trinkits. And Varostrole taken on untried lying helpfers to be his potties, to sculpt and to throw pot in his name. And he were neglojent in his hiring, affirming none of their asserted referrols. And woe, most were those taken on lam—being sought by manchase operativs for False Prophecy, and Annihilistic Discomfiture of Luminarians, and Uncanny Resemblanse to Nobles, and divers other crimes of the century; also those expunge-ed from towerbuilding but at it again, for their industriatic tragedies. My building which I builded (saith Fallwich the Cobboler with his rotted grin): up sh’ went & down sh’ came. Such lot were these unabel assisters. But, they costen Varostril but a fraxien of the paydrag of perfesshnols.

And he sendeth forth pockt & twisty agents to purchase for him the worst of cheap disintegritous clays, or to heist inglorius dirts for his makes; yet before the poepel he call-ed this mean goopf deluxx. For he saith unto his procurers, Call them good, all thy nasty muds, tho they be blent with thine own effluents & whatnotte. And we shall make things to be worshippt & kisst & fondld by believers.

But unto his pothawkers & totemvenders sounded he warning, saying, Hear me, O saleserpent: Laff not in their very face in mentiening the goodness of our compounds, lest thy buyers take the jeebies and demur. Rather, keep back thy laffter behind thy face, straining in privot derision, until when that thou mayst to stumbol out from the city and release thine exsplosian of laffing in the wild. ’Tis the only way that I know to get by. Say. Remembrest thou VPL Agent Recidivid, who during sale lafft into a jug—one of ours—which brake, revealing his laffter before the buyers? He is now but a sound; for he is that which giveth unto their path its crunching as they stroll. Therefore to the wild, my guy. Only hope that the music of thy laffiter out there sootheth the mighty tiger that it waketh.