YES! THAT'S THE SPIRIT!

Throw the concoction against the wall! Vegetables freed! Order be damned!

Separate these eggs from a twisted fate amongst the cheese and mushrooms! Death to green peppers! Bask in the pure breakfast anarchy!

you wouldn't expect to find Igor Stravinsky roaming the streets of Copenhagen. But it was unmistakable. He stands out in the croud, like a green flavored giraffe. Perhaps it was an alternate reality. (Perhaps?!) There was a giant sandworm devouring one of the busses , don't ask me to pronounce the name of the street. (All names were in Cantonese but written in gothic).

I let shai hulud slither by, singing to myself the old nursery song, you know...'the wheels on the bus go tesseract tesseract tesseract..' The bus was quantum-entangled with it's rout, so it rematerialized, mostly unscathed on the next stop, with just a few teeth stuck on the roof. It reminded me of the paperback i was reading in the airport, Re-omletting for beginners. A very detailed textbook about how to unmake an egg, and then make it again. Fascinating read, if only the last three chapers were torn by some miscreant.

Sravinsky was not aware of sandworm's passage. i dont know what goes on in that guy's mind. Is it conflicting bitonality? Polyrythems from the Russisn heartlands? Cognizant marionetts? Well if he can't be bothered to notice the great maker (blessed be it), then he won't notice me and my sticky fingers. Or so i thought.

I walked past a pack of amorous velociraptors, their communal affection to each other touching in a way, but I could not spend time on that, unfortunately. This is a one-shot deal.

He walked on, buying a hot cup of broxy stew from a kyosk. Is he not afraid of the many diseases that could inflict him?

The thought sickened me. I drew closer, smelling the ghastly stew. I came closer still and reached my hand inside his pocket. But Igor Stravinsky is not someone to pickpocket! Growing up in Tsarist Russia teaches you a thing or two about street urchins. He scalded me with the stew, which burned more by the sense of failure it represented, than the actual temprature which was remarkably low for a fatty stew. i guess in Copenhagen, people drink borxy stew cold on Thursdays.

'You total failure!!' Mocked me the surrealist in contempt.

I was still recovering from the shock of the cold broth.

'You will never amount to anything!! You can't even pick my pocket right, can you?'

'But maestro, i just need to know...i must know...what does a great man like you hold in his pockets!' I protested.

'What i hold in my pocket is non of your business. NONE. Now, go harass someone else, i belive i saw Elgar walking a while back. '

'I don't give a damn about Elgar and his Pomp and Circumstance, really tell me all i need to know about his pockets. No! No No No No! It has to be you' i demanded, trying to clean my hand with a wet wipe.

'Please maestro! Surly you can understand the need. Haven't you ever burned to know the contents of someone else's pockets?!'

'Don't call me Shirley. My name is igor. And yes, i have once burned with the passion of curiosity. I remember an oboe player once, who had something in his pocket, but..but it is immetirial! What would this world be if we just delve into other people's pockets to satisfy our curiosity?!'

'It is not a bad thing to be curious...i'll tell you what. Maybe you are a tad curious to see what is inside my pockets?'

'Not in the least'

'Not even a bit?'

'No. You are not interesting enough. '

'What if i told you that i have a pitch for the disney company. for the third fantasia film. '

'That doesnt interest anyone. Both films were flops. '

'Both filns used your scores'

'So? Is it my fault they did things so badly. They cut off entire parts of the firebird...for what? At least the didnt touch

my Patrushka i despise Disney! But just so i know, what was your pitch? '

'Got you interested?'

'da...i mean yes..just for the fun of it...'

'Ok...i was going to suggest a scene with a treasure hunt. Guys running around with a map...you know X marks the spot...they dig it up and find the skeleton of mickey mouse. '

'Intetesting...what would be the music set for that?'

'The 1812 overture?'

'Ha! Too obvious. '

'Ok...how about the Bachianas Brasileiras?'

'Vila lobos?...hmm.....which one...'

'Maybe the aria...'

'Too depressing...how about the Appalachian Trail. '

'Copland? I tbought you hated his work.'

'Oh..i do...i do...which is why its perfect for Disney!'

'Ok. Ok. Appalachian Trail it is...now, could you show me what's inside your pockets?'

'Fine. Here...' And with that, Igor Stravinsky emptied his pockets. The contents were:

A jaw-harp,

A box of crayons,

A third edition paperback edition of re-omletting for beginners,

Three apricots,

A telescopic baton,

The keys to a Mazda Lantis.

32 Krönner,

A small bottle of disinfectant.

We parted ways amicably, me to post my discovery, and he, no doubt to read his copy of the book.

Sunrise wasn’t far off, and it was Thursday once again. He could hear the wind sharply blowing hard against the left side of the house. It would be miserable outside this early. The thought of it all made him pull the faded cotton quilt higher around his neck. The pillows had never felt so soft, the comfort of the mattress so appealing. But it was Thursday, and he would need to be out and hunting before dawn.

Tonight was Broxy stew night, tonight was Thursday, everyone else was depending upon him for their dinner.

From down the hall in the kitchen he heard the electric coffee pot click on. He lay still in the bed until he could smell the coffee brewing then summoning all his strength tossed all the covers aside onto the floor and moved swiftly out of bed. Experience had taught him that once the quilts grew cold on the wooden floor they would lose their powers of persuasion.

He had prepared his backpack the evening before, so departure into the cold predawn was merely a matter of layering up the clothing and drinking down the mug of coffee. It was always unsettling to try to eat before the hunt, there was too much else to plan.

Everything else was sitting ready on the kitchen table. On Broxy stew night it was best to have all the other ingredients lined up and ready to go. He methodically scanned the sack of red potatoes, the red onions, the chili powder and carrots. Reaching up over the stove he lifted down the big blue speckled stew pot and set it on the kitchen table along with the large wooden stirring spoon.

Nodding toward the necessities in approval, he slipped a dark grey parka over his clothes, shouldered his back pack and headed out the door. The wind cut through the air like an icy razor, but the high oxygen level in the cold air was exhilarating.

Although it was challenging to get out of bed on Broxy stew day, he always felt excited about the hunt once he was actually on his way to the hunt site.

Some pitches for a new Fantasia movie:

- A live action version, since Disney is going to town with live action remakes lately.

- A plot explanation to Kingdom Hearts set to "Simple And Clean." After viewing, no one will still understand what is going on in Kingdom Hearts, but this segment will be required viewing if you want to have any clue what is happening when Kingdom Hearts 3.5678 Ultimate Newish Prologue Chapter is released in 20 years.

- Mickey and Donald Duck work as Door Dashers, their many crazy delivery antics set to upbeat music. Donald of course, gets angry as Mickey gets more orders.

- An animated version of Tom Holland spoils future MCU movies set to epic orchestral themes.

- An opera number where they sing about Bruno.

- A teaser for Frozen III, where Olaf dives into a pool of money.

- The original classic segment with Mickey trying to use magic to clean and it goes horribly wrong, but edit in some Lysol and hand sanitizers coming to life too.

- A rap battle covering the pros and cons of a Snow White live action remake.

- A Star Wars piece that was improvised and filmed in one take.

The erstwhile wheels on the Chrysalis Galavan when(t) tesseract tesseract tesseract, sheathing to a halt as we crossed the beckoning but slippery sloped asymptote. It all started with the wrong religion--no, the long division, of something magical...by zero--Hero! Stopping to run still, the startled shocks absorbed the gravitational waves that ebb and flow into the undercarriage, soaking my fleet feet in ambulatory confusion. Motivational waves followed as the light turned purple, so it was time to sublimate away into the visceral warmth of ambiguity.

I know not where it takes me, but perhaps I'm there already. Sure feels like it!

Frank tilted break in his chair as he stared at the blank white wall of his apartment. He had his day off, and now he did not know what he should do with it. "I'm soo bored," he mumbled, drawing it out.

His roommate still in bed, it was 11:20 am in the morning after all, still pretty early to get up on a weekend, shushed him. "Go find something to do, out of here. I am trying to sleep," he said as pulled his covers over his head. Frank had pulled the curtains back from the window only moments before.

"Fine," muttered Frank has left the room, closing the door behind him. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he started looking through the app store. He already played a few app games and did didn't really like them much. The ads were almost non-stop; he never paid for any of the app games, but the ads were annoying the living hell out of him. Not finding anything, he got a bowl of cereal and ate that as he delated the games he had downloaded that morning. After deleting all four of the games, he started listening to music. After four songs, he had eaten 3 bowls of cereal, finishing off one box and starting another, he had washed the bowl and was bored again. He opened the app store back up again hoping to find something of interest. There was a new risk game, but he was bored of that already, one of the games he had delated that morning was another risk game. There was another fantasy RPG game, based on the Dune movie, but after watching the trailor Frank decided that it looked boring as well. Finally, he found an app of interest. It was an augmented reality murder scene game, X Marks Murder, that connected to his GPS signal. The player acts as a detective that finds murders, and other less exciting crime scenes, and tries to resolve them. He downloaded it

The loading took awhile so Frank got ready for a walk outside, he had been meaning to exercise more. He grabbed some green mint chocolate cookies, shaped like giraffes, and stuffed them into his pockets. Finally, the phone finished installing the game and he opened it up and turned on the map, the crime scene map as the app. The nearest one scene was only a distracted driver car crash, not as a great as a murder, but it was the nearest one. It was only a block away. He left the apartment, tossing a pamphlet that was stuck on the door into his pocket as he left. Keeping his eye on the phone as he munched on some cookies. He checked out the pamphlet too, a soup kitchen was looking to for volunteers to help serve stew every thursday 11;00 am - 1:00 pm. "Can't go, I have class at that time," Frank muttered. Spanish class.

Finally, he got to the spot, a sidewallk next to a slow intersection, but there was no accident. "What, stupid app!" Frank growled as he pushed some buttons. Suddenly, the phone started counting down from 4. Frank, waiting for something to happen, was then hit by a car when it hit zero. Frank was killed on impact.

Dazed, the driver got out. Her name was Shirley, she had just downloaded a GPS based game that morning and was a headed out to a "crime scene" in the game, she had been distacted while driving because she was looking for the scene. She thought she had missed her turn. As she screamed, both her and Frank's phones beeped with a new message.

"A crime scene as been found. Start investigating."

Velociraptors falling in love with Oviraptorosaurs has posed quite a problem for the species as a whole. According to substantial amounts of seconds researching these two bipedal dinosaurs, I’ve determined that they are in fact not right for each other. Amongst the plethora of unquestionable Wikipedia information I have found out that Oviraptorosaursuses may have eaten Velociraptors on more than one occasion. This Google certified scientist can’t help but question the Velociraptors thought process. Are the Oviraptorosaurs that attractive? Upon further research in the ever cited ”More Photos”, it seems not to be the case. In fact, I am inclined to be of the opposite opinion. Oviraptorosaurs seemed to be nothing but bone! Why would the Velociraptors continue to love bones that eat them? This is the hard hitting questions that no search engine could answer. However there are some promising fossil samples coming out of Idaho that could shed some light on this. Until then we will just have to get by with the idea that Velociraptors were willing to literally give up

( Oviraptorosaurs ate them) their lives for love.