…then the tattered hands of the Blue Glofmillion closed around Arthur’s neck – much like the tattered hands of a Red Glofmillion closing around the neck of a man – and at the same moment. the tattered hands of the Yellow Glofmillion closed around Peralopolies neck – like the tattered hands of a Blue Glofmillion closing around the neck of Arthur – which was reminiscent of the feeling brought on by the Red Glofmillion, which was at that very moment busy closing its own tattered hands, around the neck of Mrs Slefton – which brought to mind the previous day’s events – where the Brownish Glofmillion had partially strangled itself, with its own tattered hands.
The Grey Glofmillion and the Peachy Glofmillion – who were squatting beside the recently flocked, paisley tea-set – looked on with obvious distaste and wondered why their own hands had now become tattered; “A cream of some sort would probably help, mayhap something with cocoanuts in.” the Grey Glofmillion mumbled to himself, then wondered why he had said ‘mayhap’ and began the slow strangulation of the Peachy Glofmillion, who had been getting on his wick for the last hour, with his incessant reciting of Wordsworth’s lyrical ballad ‘A slumber did my sprit seal’.
On the other side of the world, Lupin’s return to Earth had turned out to be an unqualified success. The endless vortex, it turned out, had been miss-sold, and turned out to have not just one, but three ends. Each one was much the same – a plastic cat flap measuring about 6″x6″, opening into different doors of the same bungalow, in a fairly bland suburb of Melbourne – with the only real difference, being a very subtle nuance in the smell each flap. Lupin had chosen the left hand cat flap, which smelt ever so slightly of cinnamon. Upon investigation, the right hand cat flap smelt of dogs and the central one, had a subtle aroma, that seemed to imply the future annihilation of the entire universe. Lupin decided that he had chosen the correct flap.