Now, as eve done its deep approachey, his eye on the Moon, all-time some-time deep joy of a full moon scintillatin' dangley in the heavenly 'bode, but now only half -
"Oh, blow your cool, man!" he did this deep thought-cus. "What is the folly of this half-disappearing of the moonly-most?"
And as the light did a scintillating change through timely-most, stoppit still, and he did a deep thought-cus, what? Absolutely smashed and flakit he was.
So, gathering all behind in the hintermost, he ploddy-ploddy forward into the deep thunder-mould of the complicating forrie to sort this one out matey.
"Where at man, he thought-cus, where at man? Oh, dear!"