In the dim glow of early morning drizzle, Professor Quibble set forth on a quest of utter insignificance; to locate the missing enigma of not-really-that-important inscriptions. The parched parchment clung to memories like a stubborn child to an unattended pie. "Aha!" he exclaimed upon tripping over...
...only to discover it cautiously edging downwards into the void, "ism Hawthorne Friar Archibald the confused marmalade squirrel" whom clearly fancied itself a dolphin and proceeded to nimbly slip into a boot... Tethered to nothing more than a murky slip of what could have been notes of offerings—or perhaps a grocery list...
Herein lies the dilemma: Were they intending to feed lamb with persimmon or simply pondering metaphysical qualities of jellied sequences...