Greetingly greetings readly readers, I, Daisy Kloverleaf have assumed the narrative. You should see an uptick in quality even though I know that Miss Leila will cull most of my brilliantly brilliant adverbs from this.

[That’s for damn sure–every time you see * , it means that a bizarre adverb has been deleted–but at the end of the book a list will appear in their order of usage-LA]

Gwen and John got inside our golf cart. Renfield * drove, I rode * shotgun, Gwen and John sat in the back. Peety peetily fluttered about. We bade everyone a temporary farewell and set off.

“What a cool little toon,” John said, * amazed by Peety.

“Is that a rabbit in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Peety said. “Dolores, Who Framed Roger Rabbit.”

“Oops, forgot to warn you about that,” Renfield, who is a pretty, wispily wispy young woman, half Irish, half Japanese, said. “Peety’s entire vocabulary is formed from quotations from movies like Roger Rabbit, The Terminator, Porkies and his favorite Animal House. And he always credits the film and speaker. It’s no use siccing the censor on him, he really doesn’t mean to be crude, could say he’s just drawn that way.” Renfield smiled, * pleased with her little joke.

“Leila says he’s from another realm,” said Gwen.

“Yup–Other Earth.”

“‘Other Earth’?”

“It’s like this,” Renfield said, * navigating the golf cart * toward the hills in the south (which Gwen assumed was the direction since there were four hills in the circle around the realm that had N, S, W, E embossed on their sides; they were headed toward, surprise, S). “Leila and the * dubious sort who * invented the realm * decided to invent a sister realm called Other Earth, a place identical to your Earth–and it was until Leila bungled and had to visit the place, which greatly altered its history.”

“Hey!” Gwen said. “That little Lamb wearing the Motorhead scarf made an obscene gesture–Up yours too, ye little jack-off!”

We were surroundingly surrounded by Sheep, as it goes everywhere in the realm. The adultly adults who entered the realm via the vortex from Scotland, when it was accidentally stuck open last year, are regular Sheep, but their * offspring, those born in the Springs, are obnoxiously obnoxious talking Lambs, prone to make obscene gestures, even with hooves.

“Everything you see is a longly long story,” I said. “Fortunately, we’ll have time to tell it tomorrow.”

End Part Seven