The elephant floundered blindly into the pool table. He fell and crushed the hobbit feet of the hostile fleas that surrounded him. Suddenly, the warlock reappeared and gathered the insect remains for further medical usage. He returned to the circus hospital. But alas, within the structure was an orgy of love, hate, and fluids. Modernism, post-modernism, existentialism, and sentence fragments! The fleas forgotten, he turned to the ringmaster. “You fiendish boogerhead!” Immediately, glowing globs of mucus skyrocketed from most of the ringmaster’s orifices. The grotesque snot splattered like a sweet spring rain onto Merlin’s eyes, igniting the elephant bloodlust within him.
— Ben Zhu