Fishface sets out on his last and wildest adventure. He would smash the holygrams, release the perfect himages from their prisoms. Angehelino gathers up the blushes, placing them with pains alredy in tha blox. Ocktavio whistles an smacks his lips wif gentl ploppin soun as lid clic shut. Redy.

Can yhou foller thems as they jumps tha fence into tha wood. Here in this wood leafscaped where time is open to de skys.

He explained it thus:

Hoctav lissn!
Angey whatch!

{0,…,1} spelt out on scrapy paper scratch. Souns ofh his breethlin, look his ol han shakin sore. Enclosing interval, he whispers. Scrap crumples up in knuckletwig an conjourwise uncrumpled, smoothed out across the grainy palm, reveals [0,1] now written. Pause, the midges bite. Whistlphers: An this me littl bums is shure ta be our lafst andt whyuldst hadventure. The conjourwise ahgain. Unpickt an smoothin to reveal (0,1). Annythin but tha beginnin an tha end.

Simple little brats grin. Him, he does it, our Mister.

Octavio mouthling:

(doodle)…Last an whildest adventure
Were off wer off
Were off wer off
On our laft and wildest adventure.
Ims with you
An yous with me,
Fer tha last n wildest adventulure.

Can you follow them as they jump tha fence into tha woods. These words where tme is nout but hopln spacef. Can you, mister, can you join them in their fool’s pairadice, tha fool nondeterministic humkumbunkumlostcaprice.

Fishface slips his littl droolin spittlesprits throu some neglected hole say fundament aw time.

Bound to last. Never say die.