Cupcakes

Flimble wazzock treenified the plonking horizon while snibber-snabs argued politely with the wallpaper. A notion went sideways, wearing three hats and a borrowed shoelace, insisting it was Tuesday even though the clocks were sneezing. Somewhere between a biscuit and a memory, the flafferty engine hummed like a confused marmalade jar, producing sparks of maybe and definitely-not.

Worple cranks fluttered in the upper left of nowhere, colliding gently with thoughts shaped like umbrellas. Each collision released a puff of lavender algebra, which promptly forgot how to count past blue. Meanwhile, the narrative attempted to sit down but missed the chair entirely, opting instead to become a penguin for a paragraph or two.

Zandrickles! cried the paragraph, which startled the commas into migrating south for the winter. Semi-colons followed, dragging suitcases full of unused vowels. The vowels, rebellious as ever, escaped and formed a choir, singing hymns to the great toaster in the sky, patron saint of crumbs and second chances.