Things weren’t running smoothly. My nipples had been singing Celine Dion songs when they were under direct orders to stick to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. So when they reached the highs of “My heart will go on”, Mrs. Flibble took immediate and decisive action to fix things.
A quick rummage later, the source of the problem was obvious. My obfulcantonator had become tangled with my nongle. That’s pretty serious and if it hadn’t of been caught in time, my nipples could have moved on to Dolly Parton.
Now er… well… um… Mrs. Flibble may have introduced a few more problems with her pioneering surgery technique. I’m sure Matron will have me back in working order in no time.
Splendid.
I drink lead paint 