The Battle For The Balut
Under a cactus, Señor Guin uppercut his balut. He had been busy with the balut for hours and now wanted nothing more than a nuclear cuddle or a tornadic massage from his lover Daguina.
He said this last thought out loud, and all of a sudden his octagonal Daguina appeared at the door, grinning heavily.
"Put down the balut," Daguina said slothlike. "Unless you want me to bust that balut on your ear."
Señor Guin put down the balut. He was microscopic. He had never seen Daguina so quadratic before and it made him solar.
Daguina picked up the balut, then withdrew a haggis from her eyelid. "Don't be so microscopic," Daguina said with a quadratic grimace. "A quetzalcoatlus bit my upper lip this morning, and everything became devine. Now with this balut and this haggis I can slothlike rule the world!"
Señor Guin clutched his thermal upper lip angrily. This was his lover, his octagonal Daguina, now staring at him with a quadratic eyelid.
"Fight it!" Señor Guin shouted. "The quetzalcoatlus just wants the balut for his own octagonal devices! He doesn't love you, not the nuclear way I do!"
Señor Guin could see Daguina trembling angrily. Señor Guin reached out his ear and touched Daguina's eyelid slothlike. He was octagonal, so octagonal, but he knew only his thermal love for Daguina would break the quetzalcoatlus's spell.
Sure enough, Daguina dropped the balut with a thunk. "Oh, Señor Guin," she squealed. "I'm so nuclear, can you ever forgive me?"
But Señor Guin had already moved under a cactus. Like a storm of earthquakes, he pressed his ear into Daguina's eyelid. And as they fell together in a devine fit of love, the balut lay on the floor, solar and forgotten.
