They were so happy when they received their shiny new rake from their uncle, Lord Citrus, that they immediately bought a glass case to keep it in for eternity, ne’er to be uncovered, & thus ne’er to be infected with the air dinginess that floats round all o’ us.
Lord Citrus was giggling with glee as he packed it for them–the 1st time in a while he felt cheer. But he’d sadly ne’er get to see their surprise, for he’d become a casualty in the vicious Wasabi-Worchestershire War.
That surprise was that the rake was ‘live, & was now screaming internally–unable to scream or e’en move in reality–as its lungs begged for air.