You have got to love soap operas. From the intricate plots
and finely woven webs of deceit to the depths of schemes, they were, are and
always will be classics. They are timeless.
And now for that thought-provoking question that plagues
men’s souls unceasingly through the bright shining of the day and through the
untold dark depths of the night:
Why did Peter, who in reality is actually Superman, fake
that he stubbed his toe on the 17th stone on the sidewalk starting at 4th and
Grand instead of the 16th stone, which was bigger and more logically the victim
of that invulnerable toe and why did Marlys take Sam’s advice to buy the yellow
tulip instead of the red and green carnation, while all the time Rodregus knew
that the curvaceous young Pandora was at the moment buying the last purple,
double-breasted, duck-billed, warbling giraffe in the world for her dear
departed Phillip disguised as a lowly second mate on the Queen Mary, which was
under attack by the tyrant Cedric because of the terrible beating he had
suffered at the hands of Radcliff whose ex-wife Natalie was actually Percival’s
long lost great-great-uncle Maximillian in disguise who knew that Zigmond was
fond of un-pitted olives stuffed into green grapefruit filled graciously with
Granny and Gretchen’s goulash, which was gradually getting gooey and who also
knew of Jennifer’s contact Louella in the deep Congo, seized at the time by the
dread Gardenia, the 7th cousin of Guenivere, in hopes of receiving the
eight-ounce bottle of Elmer’s Glue stored in the vast files in the cortex of Courtney’s
colossal computer complex carefully compiled to correct the current curling,
commonly crusading as the contagious, communicable, crystalline, cucumber crud,
carried on cue sticks by crying cuckoo clock birds continuously to conform with
the cunning Cornelius’ cumbersome plot to corrupt the currency and continue the
crisis of the Cormandel Coast Cult, complicated by the coroner Cort’s corny
connotation to conceal his consecutive coronary contractions constantly
crippling his conscious efforts to contradict congenial counterparts’ careful
counterfeit correspondence with Corwyn, the cosmic cosmetician?
Was it because Bill had green eyes or was it because Melissa
meddled menacingly and meticulously in Maude’s plans to read the calendar to
see what year she had been sent to by her superiors in the future?
Tune in tomorrow for the exciting climax created by another
deep question.
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