Requiem For Titus Print

Millard Niblet Burl Weber Micklerelf was born into perspicacity during the Volution of the Priards; on the Eve of St. Sphagny; after Major Tense-Floyd Abner released the Dover Munchmen into the twilight of the cormorant; when the forests of Eldonspank Heath purpled in squalid torpor. He toiled languidly in lugubrious chunder, never mincing a word when a dance by Peckerlight would win the day. Lo, and there were chillwills in the night and Meyercrantz Rockducks by the dozens in the Dexters' pond to the north. A far light shone, and Wickenham, the plate-peddler, waffled haplessly under the diurnal shepherd's hoops. Tension amid rapture railed against a clove hitch; wise did wax the Goddard Fitch. "Please, I beg!" cried Mose. The Bull-Pizzles of Weeping Boil laughed at him, as did the Gary Tormint children, Mrs. VanBelcher, Tommy Zoe, Carpe Boraddle, and Fistula Tiara. Sister Camps and Mother Trinket asked that a full basket of Joe-Beans be delivered in a Mosswagon to the loading bay of the J.T. Tripplenut Co. in Ovum. They asked that it be done again on the first Tuesday after the next full moon. When the matter was finally closed, a hail rained down, and Millard Nat Bunt Wilt Micklerelf began to paint and drink orange soda. And it was then that the real work began. And important art...magnificent art!...came into being by his hand.