Darren! WONDERFUL to see you. Come here quickly – I want you to meet this simply marvelous little man. Darren Phelps, this is the gentleman who’s been entertaining us with such eloquent aplomb this evening. His name is V.H. Chesterton Coggs, and he’s been regaling us with stories from his latest book: Polo at Crown Manor. Have you read it?
The host’s eye sockets engorged and flexed into grossly exaggerated proportions as a thick fog crowded its way into the ornately decorated sitting room. The words to this conversation, which had actually taken place some seventy-five years ago in Bristol, England, materialized in mid-air and left the room, sucked up through a time-space continuum and within moments, inexplicably crept out of the mouths of a middle-aged couple who were shopping for ball gags.
“Is it possible to ever have enough ball gags?” one asked the other, in a whisper.
“No, sweetheart. It never is. It never is.”
Overcome with emotion, the store clerk wept.
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