Post by holland on Oct 16, 2010 23:19:35 GMT -5
Look out, look out, pink elephants on parade!
Dizzying steps, jarring left, leaning right, arms thrown out like a tight rope walker performing his harrowing feat; this was Klaus on an off day, folks.
Far behind the umber fur were hazy blue eyes that saw pink elephants, and oh how he swayed along as their rosy forms danced and sang and trumpeted on their long noses. All well and good, he was in the one place where his wasn’t too odd a sight. California, home away from home, right? And of course, people stopped and stared, some even went so far as to click their tongues in reproach. But Klaus never paid the public opinion much mind when it came to enjoying himself. That was, he was enjoying himself until one of the campy creatures called down the thunder and thought it best to curbstomp the scatterbrained nation into a fine powder. The suddenly startled Dutchman stopped in the middle of a busy thoroughfare and bristled and grinned like a frightened cat, bouncing back on fear-stiffened legs at an elephant that, in his own mind, was about to trample him in its song-and-dance routine.
Pink elephants indeed.
It wasn’t often that Klaus was the “calm and level-headed” creature now preying on California, prowling from alleyway to alleyway like so many rippers and strippers had done before. And why was he doing this? Well, frankly my dear, why the hell not? He was by no means a perpetually busy guy, nor was he so pitifully unoccupied that he simply had to entertain himself by conversing with a marauding band of salmon-colored pachyderms. He just happened to be a procrastinator and a bit of an escape artist. His advisors were bound to be somewhere, yelling at the Klaus-crow diligently slumped over his desk back in The Hague. And he was here, looking for someone to go from trippin’ balls to high off his tits with.
Now then, where was California?
Dizzying steps, jarring left, leaning right, arms thrown out like a tight rope walker performing his harrowing feat; this was Klaus on an off day, folks.
Far behind the umber fur were hazy blue eyes that saw pink elephants, and oh how he swayed along as their rosy forms danced and sang and trumpeted on their long noses. All well and good, he was in the one place where his wasn’t too odd a sight. California, home away from home, right? And of course, people stopped and stared, some even went so far as to click their tongues in reproach. But Klaus never paid the public opinion much mind when it came to enjoying himself. That was, he was enjoying himself until one of the campy creatures called down the thunder and thought it best to curbstomp the scatterbrained nation into a fine powder. The suddenly startled Dutchman stopped in the middle of a busy thoroughfare and bristled and grinned like a frightened cat, bouncing back on fear-stiffened legs at an elephant that, in his own mind, was about to trample him in its song-and-dance routine.
Pink elephants indeed.
It wasn’t often that Klaus was the “calm and level-headed” creature now preying on California, prowling from alleyway to alleyway like so many rippers and strippers had done before. And why was he doing this? Well, frankly my dear, why the hell not? He was by no means a perpetually busy guy, nor was he so pitifully unoccupied that he simply had to entertain himself by conversing with a marauding band of salmon-colored pachyderms. He just happened to be a procrastinator and a bit of an escape artist. His advisors were bound to be somewhere, yelling at the Klaus-crow diligently slumped over his desk back in The Hague. And he was here, looking for someone to go from trippin’ balls to high off his tits with.
Now then, where was California?
