in the valley of the gwangai
Dawn at the chateau.
The mighty Heelers stirs in his slumber. He seems an almost mythic figure in the half dark, like some magnificent mythical beast newly escaped from the pages of Norse or Greek mythology.
(That's quite enough myths. - Ed note.)
From somewhere in the real world, an alarm clock jingles.
The great jungle beast opens his eyes and swings his legs to the floor.
Another day begins.
Heelers notices another jungle beast also present.
Paddy Pup is sitting beside the bed watching his master intently.
Ireland's greatest living poet grunts and starts to get dressed.
"Why do you wear socks?" asks Paddy Pup conversationally.
"My feet aren't covered in hair like yours," answers Heelers.
There is a moment's silence.
"So why don't you wear a sock on your face?" wonders Paddy Pup.
My answer is unprintable.
The mighty Heelers stirs in his slumber. He seems an almost mythic figure in the half dark, like some magnificent mythical beast newly escaped from the pages of Norse or Greek mythology.
(That's quite enough myths. - Ed note.)
From somewhere in the real world, an alarm clock jingles.
The great jungle beast opens his eyes and swings his legs to the floor.
Another day begins.
Heelers notices another jungle beast also present.
Paddy Pup is sitting beside the bed watching his master intently.
Ireland's greatest living poet grunts and starts to get dressed.
"Why do you wear socks?" asks Paddy Pup conversationally.
"My feet aren't covered in hair like yours," answers Heelers.
There is a moment's silence.
"So why don't you wear a sock on your face?" wonders Paddy Pup.
My answer is unprintable.
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