In the veil of the void, where silence screams and shadows giggle, a jester tumbled.

The critics called it, "a misstep in the choreography of cosmic calamity."

Picture it: a banana peel strategically positioned, yet ultimately ignored, in the grand design of nothingness.

The jester, clad in motley of oblivion, slips, slides, and splashes into an unseen puddle.

Lift the veil and there's just more void, more potential for slapstick sorrow.