The daft design was drafted in the attic of an impractical inventor,
then patented, perfected, and pedaled by the fine folks at WOMPCO,
who brought us the Clever Cleaver Salad Chopper in a Hopper!
With a hearty, “HeeeeyOhh!” it’s Ed McMahon endorsed and fully
guaranteed to do just what it does. Only three easy payments, but
supplies are sorely lacking, “Better hurry, buy yours now!”

I can’t quite say why, but I promptly placed an order in my choice
of style and color, to the operator, so patient, standing by.

It delivered itself in no time; no assembly was required, with a clock built
in the stomach just to prove it never stops. Whirling weights with magnets,
gyral gears, and rolling agates swing the little levered mallets striking piston
driven shafts. It went “whirrr” and “click” with a rhythmic “rick-a-tick.”

All was hunky-dory till my territorial tic hound, Rusty, aimed a golden steaming,
streaming arc of pee. Now corroded gears spin in grating spastic motion with a
“clack” and a shrill “rack-a-tack-a-shreeeeeee!”

Well, I whacked it with a shovel just to try and stop the shrieking but that only
moved it faster than before. So I buried it out in back of my lawnmower shack,
but it dug its way back up by half past dawn. It reached its final straw so it
drove off in my car, a lever out the window with extended middle pinion,
and I haven’t seen it since.

09/12/2006

Author's Note: I'm on a one way trip to Goofeyville.

Posted on 09/12/2006
Copyright © 2026 David Hill