One evening in my room there was buxom cupid/cherubim thing and a precocious Churly Brown have a tinge drinking competition. The onlookers are quelled in disbelief. Ace Ventura is gnashing his chops and his quail is belching from eating Ace's guano. Insidious Odysseus is behind them and approaches me and offers to take me on a journey. I see the famous poster of Obama with his opal (hopeful) look and it gives me the feeling that this journey is ineluctable. Odysseus says with ardor that we must depart into the sea of carpet because we must not be room addicts, we must sojourn and should feel instead rather rheumatic by the end of it. The only thing stopping us is the timorous doorman who Odysseus must mitigate with because the doorman is so emotional about his banal job. I feel bad for him then feel bad myself, filled with malaise as I head for the bathroom.
There I find a promissory Brett Favre pouring an amicable Peyton Manning a cup of tea from the samovar. They're telling one another jokes while playing with the beads of an abacus. Favre calls one of his jokes an aphorism or an 'a-four-ism' obviously referencing his jersey number, and Manning laughs then jeers at his old age. They briefly bicker at one another's alleged ingenuousness looking , and ask for one another's wisdom. Manning makes a metaphor to the man behind the shower curtain then opens it to find two seemingly amiable brothers, Cane and Abel, in a bathtub full of gold lucre. Everyone's face physiognomy contorts in surprise thinking that it's a ruse, but then the rooster-cuckoo clock goes off above the toilet signaling two WWII comrades. One is holding a lorgnette and impetuously asks for from powder to treat a rash while the other considerably more venerable soldier is wearing a derisive face while carrying many hammers and sickles. The first tells us to join the soiree, 'They're calling it the Axiom of Evil ball' he adds before he walks off with the medicine. I follow him out of the bathroom and see several vaudeville girls dressed in dalmatian outfits going into my brother's room receiving some sort of emanation or receipt from an oversize, wheedling caterpillar. I pass by reluctantly to go into the living room and feel pangs in my feet, a homeopathic doctor is there to greet me, welcoming me to the party by stamping my hand with an expatiating passage in the form of a parenthetic ink citation.
This allows me to be admitted into the living room where I find the Queen of England and a large coin who will recompense her at the end of the evening. Over on the fireplace are Colin Mochrie and Ryan Stiles who are apropos playing the improvisation game 'Props'. Over their heads is a tapestry which I feel trepidation for mistaking where it was made, with casuistry I'd think probably New Mexico. On the couch is a super-sized squash quashing the cushions while next to him is a bleeding briefcase stinking of carrion. Coming out of the kitchen is the Lucky Charms mascot meeting the Wendy's mascot near the iridescent balustrade. Leaving the laundry room is a walking calico wearing a Towelie shirt with a heavyset, inveterate Miles Veater in a frock eating a burger. My next precipitous task is to follow the mascots downstairs...
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