Hatched in an obscure but scenic meadow on a distant planet,
in a galaxy far, far away, the Silvertones were quick to recognize
their dilemma: sink or sing. So sing they did, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Many years later, Chainsaw fondly remembers the early days.
"Those were the days, matey", as he pulls yet another chug of java
from his well-worn mug. "Roger that", I agree. "Those were the days, indeed."
And so it goes. Outside, the squirrels remain oblivious to the impending chaos.
Will the reinforcements arrive in time?
Will the world as we know it heed the tell-tale signs?
Will success, in fact, spoil Rock Hunter?
These, and countless other questions remain, like bad ink, or blood,
as we ponder the horizon and search for the keys.
Oh, the horror...scorer...ignore her...keep saying no to her.
Time was...time has come today.
And so it comes down to this: the answer, quite clearly, lies waiting.
Crouching, poised, predatory, daring it's innocent prey to take just one more step!