I left the house early via the dome of a ballistic missile silo, travelling at super cheetah speed I found the king of the fairy folk buttering the face of a hot cross bun princess; we spoke at length using short sentences. I came back as an ostrich jockey practising for the avian Derby. My studio had become a hot dog roll so I covered myself with mustard and pushed inside, June was sat in a bird cage hanging from the ceiling, we exchanged strange animal calls before I laid a lawn on my chest.
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