Sylvester Denny shivered, along with the large block o’ timber which he had begun to carve into a one-log-cabin; as Dawson Filter’s ankle attempted to cry out in pain; but was silenced by its sheer lack of cry-out-ing muscles, instead begging Dawson to howl for it. Dawson Filter submitted to his ankle’s request; although Sylvester Denny would never know of this event; but be left with a fleeting sense that a thing was amiss. He attributed this thought to how he thought a great many things; and abandoned it; just as he’d abandoned his twenty-two previous thoughts. This thought, however, was the first in seventy-six seconds that he had dismissed for an attribute other than containing too many whales.
He surveyed his wood-tastic block of lumber; finding it to smell of pine, look of power, and taste of leather. Concluding that this discovery must be a Volkswagen®, he lumbered away, refusing to deface such a prestigious work of engineering into a log cabin. Noticing that he was being waved down by a man holding an off-white cane fairly well, though not well enough to write home about, were writing home an option at this point, he turned to the man and said an exact replica of “Hello”; but without the same nostalgic value as were he to have said “Hello”.
“And to where are you off?” The man asked, in a faux Portuguese accent.
“Oh, I do not know quite the yet;” Sylvester replied, “though I feel driven to go there to escape the burden of temptation from this Volkswagen® appearing so ready to be whittled into a lovely log cabin.”
“‘Tisn’t a Volkswagen®. She’s as block-of-wood-esq as any other of her breed, that being the one one about which we are speaking, alias ‘a block o’ wood’. It’s just as well that you do shear her to a cottage; on account of how it’s what all o’ the hip cats are doing, myself included.”
“Who, pray tell, are these hip cats of which you speak?” Inquired Sylvester, his left nostril aching with fury.
“‘The fourth rank of The Illuminati For The Blind members’ is the answer to the question which you just asked. I’m (name removed for publication), by the by.” Is a thing which the man said in order to reply to the question o’ Sylvester Denny.
As a result of (name removed for publication) answering in this way, Sylvester said “Oh.”, ‘n’ continued to whittle. (Name removed for publication) joined him, revealing his cane to double as a machete. The two human beings hacked at the pseudo Volkswagen for some time, followed promptly by more time; allowing the Sylvester to discover that he was rather incapable of perspirating in this section of the universe. He noticed that he was disturbed by this, and feared overheating strongly. Please click upon this link to view the exhaustive list of things Sylvester Denny has feared at some point, bearing in mind that only seven of the items apply to the time-frame of the events described in this section o’ the text: http://www.denvergov.org/
After four-point-seven-three hours of whittling, the cabin emerged from the angular pine-block. Sylvester and (name removed for publication) waddled into the structure with a bang. As they did, half of them saw a woman mutter a thing to a ginger ale shaped man, who updated a population marker from twenty-seven to twenty-nine, and highed their fives in a motion of triumph.
Sylvester strolled about awhile, sipping the provided refreshments which allowed themselves to be sipped, and not for the others. The room was moist, perhaps to the point that it was; and dim, nearly as dim as Spain at times when Spain is marginally dimer than the room. Sylvester Denny knew that these two attributes alone could not occupy him for longer than twelve minutes, and so, like the waiter that he was, he walked his self out o’ the cabin. Screams were heard by him; and, assuming he heard the voices say:
“What ever is that man doing?”
Promptly followed by: “Which ever one do you speak of?”
“The one who is leaving via the door.”
“If I had to guess, leaving via the door.”
“We never planned this system to account fo’ emigration!”
“You’re fairly right, Pontius! Why would anyone want to leave such a place as this?”
“I know not, Walter; but this shall surely thwart the existence of any order in the universe.”
“We ought to discipline this lil’ anarchist hippie with not allowing him to accomplish any o’ his life goals!”
“‘Tis a dandy idea, and one which we shall surely implement approximately now.”
Then he heard correctly. Regardless of what his ears told his brain they heard, however, he ran off to tell Dawson Filter of these opponents to all of his life goals; and warn him of the impacts this may bring about on their crossword-feelings-meaning quest.