"Verily! and forsooth! I say... for there have been signs and portents, most ominous! It has rained soggy Cheese Puffs for a week, and the entrails of a goat were found tied in square knots!"
All has been fortold to us, in the Tarot and the crystal ball... the image is murky, but, alas! All is made clear... the Ouija board and the Gypsy woman who reads the tea leaves have forecast your future.
A gentle breeze carries the sound of children chanting nursery rhymes in the distance...
"Jack be nipples, Jack be tits... Poor Old Jack has lost his wits!"
A small cell, with bars on the window. Luckily for you, there is a mattress. Several, actually. They are fastened to the walls. You have a new wardrobe... canvas jacket with wrap-around sleeves... an iron ball with a chain attached to your ankle. Men in white suits tsk-tsk-tsk as they fill the syringe with thorazine and prepare the electroshock gurney for your trip to La-La Land. Soon, you hardly recognize your own image in the mirror...
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