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Marc, that was true genius! Now expand it another 365 pages and you have a great book!
..... Meanwhile, back at the story, he contemplated the mauve walls and realized that although the duct tape and dot matrix print redecorating that he had done to the bedroom and hall had been sufficient, and that in order to do the mauve bedroom, he would need to make a run to Staples in order to get more printer papers with little guide holes on both sides to go through the elderly dot matrix printer. Such a journey would require reliable transportation and coin, neither of which were forthcoming. Nor were clean underwear. Mother always said to wear clean underwear in case he was in an accident.
After closing his eyes against the riotous pinks of the house, he retrieved an only slightly soiled pair of underwear and ventured down his blurry black and white hallway. Upon recovering from unconsciousness from his tumble down the stairway, he reached up and rubbed his noggin.
"Odds bodkins, what's this?", he wondered as his sprained fingers explored his cranium, "It feels like a healing surgical wound." And PLINK, he worked loose a surgical staple that sprang back with a tiny metallic plink.
"Owch!", he cried, because as everyone knows, surgical patients should not try to remove their own staples.
Despite the throbbing in his head and fingers, he was hungry. Something smelled delicious! Having briefly lost his florid speech pattern while falling down the stairs, swearing being florid enough already, the fall had done nothing to allay his appetite. Crawling and dragging himself along the floor, passing the dining room, he struggled to pull himself into the kitchen.
"By Gerty's Garters! What's this?", he thought, upon seeing a drunken gibbon standing at the stove.
"Breakfast is nearly ready," it said, "So haul your sorry a$$ up off the floor and wash your paws. We are having fried llama and grits.", and fixed him with an evil stare.
"Is it palatable?", he dared to ask the terrifying monkey.
"You'll eat it, even if I have to cram it in from the opposite direction," the vociferous ape threatened.
Ten minutes later, after having eaten a meal of llama, grits, and squirrel nut butter, the monkey vanished and he prepared to go to Staples. Using a Victorian-style newsboy cap to cover his head staples, he left his pinkish house and turned on the sidewalk toward Staples. Luckily, Staples was downhill, because it would probably have torn out his head staples if he had needed to go uphill, seeing as how he was in poor condition and terribly out of shape. Uh, that is to say floridly, his constitution was lacking in everything.
About a block from Staples, he spied out the corner of his eye, a gibbon driving past in a transdimensional luxury sportscar. The gibbon glanced at him, lifted its middle finger in his direction, and threw a handful of defenestration at him....
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