By the power string vested in me, Pompous Airsoul, by His Original Duckyness Charlie Jughandles, I hereby certify that the following are entirely devided of sanitation. By the way, His Charliness would have wished to be with us on this suspicious occasion, but he has been abduckted by aliens. The problem was that when he set out to come here the park and ride was full and he was left stranded in his vulnerability. Being the Original Duck, the aliens were on the look out for him and he was whipped away and filleted. They brought him back of course, but now he is an eleven foot shape shifting lizard who answers to the name of Grandma.


In the absence of the Ducky Original, I have invited along Jean Paul Sartorial to officify and ratifate the process. He has a lovely dress. You may remember Jean Paul, he was the head chef at The Ann of Green Gables which is the finest hotel in Corsetshire. He used to share the lodge with Simon the Beaver until he retired and was replaced by Ian the Saddamite. Ian is a celt you know. That makes him ginger so we don't mention him. Anyway JP (he's not one of those fine Justices of the Peace, it is just one of his funny little Gallic habits that he initialises. He has a friend, PY Gerbil who does the same) considered that the certication process had been above reproach. So that takes us back to the following. Anywhere else they would have been the leading, but in Wonderland the competition is tough.

They have been done:

Rat an Cayn
Ricardo Comfort
Queen Casimir the Great
Adolph Cohen
Foxy Moxy
George Agnew
Joe Tatler
Spiro Bis
Fried Reis

Yours judiciously

PA (That is privately atrocious, in public I am verdigris)

I bow to being outprolifereated by a being of superior lexical degeneracy. O might Spartan, could you put a spurt on and turn me into your lowly minion, at least before the next millenium. Only my knees are getting sore and the scars on my back are healing. The pain can only be lessened by the resultant scar-tissue. and I'm sure you don't want that to happen, O mighty and spurious monster of delight!

OK Highly Onion I'll go and cook you some new scar tissue.

I now have the boon and vouchsafe of biometal hands with software navigating a spectrum from severe psychomotor agitation to a seamless show of gestures necessary for hand- shadow puppets illustrating the main plot and five sub plots of Goldilocks (AKA The Anthropomorphic Hair Extension Tragedy). I now also have a svelte monorail instead of a digestive tract and I fill the little silver, tooth-shaped trucks with food. These little trucks, coupled to each other by a finely engineered hook-and-eye-system, queue next to my salivary glands. They’re like hollowed out teeth but bigger, and each has an enhanced gyroscopic balance sensor that is only deactivated by emersion in dilute hydrochloric-acid at body heat. Is this a side-effect of your certification, or an adverse reaction to it? Please advise.

That is a valid confirmation of certification. Congratulations on coming out as a valid.

Valid ate me and now I am pig's will.

I have been wandering into the other boxes and squashing their corners so they don't stack properly anymore. Now I have returned like Proteus to his diffuser.