The oracle prophesies, “The River bubbles over; threatening the town below. The only way to stop it is to place a bomb in the macaroni factory. Detonate it. Watch elbow macaroni shoot to the sky and rain upon the river—thus clogging like an artery. Join us at the river with your red sauce!”
“What does that mean?” the hand-wringing female client asks.
The oracle shrugs; reluctant to share that the vision foresaw a man’s heart attack and his acrobatic mourners celebrating. Let me be wrong.
She isn’t. Next day, the client’s lover dies. Carny friends perform backflips at his funeral.