Bumbo the happy wood nymph capered through a beautiful meadow. He carried with him his licorice banjo and a basket of doll heads. Obviously, he was on his way to meet Zinzin the magical stump toad.

Bumbo met Zinzin, and both did a boisterous bouncig dance of joy to be alive, in this sparkling purple forest, and together. The dance completed, the two bowed to one another and commenced their game of upside down checkers. Zinzin had the advantage, being lower than the game board.

However the game was interupted, as it often was, by the flying cow udders from the East. Milk flowed like rain, and cheese sprang up from every bit of bare sod. And then they all sang.

This was, frankly, an entirely typical dream for young Benjamin Caldwell. He was, to put it simply, an idiot. He was a ‘puddin head’, a buffoon, a dolt, and whatever other term you want to use for it. His little mind hardly grasped more than the two minutes on either side of right now. But at times like these, ignorance truly can be bliss.