Underneath the indigo sky, where legends lay down in cardboard boxes, the macaroons of despair are served with a sprinkle of divine mayonnaise.
CRASH! BANG! It's a heist... of the heart. The saxophone dreams of a better tomorrow, while fish fly upside down, asking existential questions about kale. Oh! The melodrama!
"But I thought the office had a salad bar?" whispered the echo into the digital void, where brunch never ends, and the lattes sing in binary.
If your toaster could talk, it would chant poetry about absent Tuesdays and half-hearted revolutions. Welcome to the void's comedy show, where the cry of the crimson song is heard through echo links.
"I swear, Gerald's mongoose predicted this!" The stage left empty, the actors right confused. Someone cue the fog machine, this is going to be legendary.
Silent Cheese Interlude | Digital Plight | Resounding Buffoonery