Once all of that was over, it seemed that it was done and completed and finished off, to the point that there was nothing more to do and it was at an end and tied up and concluded and complete.
“There’s still more to do” said Arthur.
Peralopolies removed the towelling from what remained of the cat and placed the inversion scope at ninety degrees to the azimuth of the decanting sphere. “No,” he thought “this isn’t right.” He removed his pants and looked at his nineteen wheels for the answer. Each wheel was moving at a different speed, which told him that he should put the towelling back and pray.
It had become very cold in the room and Arthur put on yet another cardigan, he was now up to fifteen and looked like a fat man in fifteen cardigans, which was what he was.
His cardigans were of many colours and reminded him of Joseph and his technicolour roof-light. Arthur wondered if the colour of the cardigan made a difference to the warmth, even fractionally. This thought was based on his experiences as a child, on a small Cochineal farm in Tenerife, where he was employed to chew up the dried bodies of the beetles and spit the blood into great copper troughs. He decided to put on another cardigan, this one was blue.