MY DEAREST OF JUGGLERS,
As you are presumably aware, this past month has been quite the arduous journey as I traverse through the great Land of Oz, eluding the Wicked Witch of the Southeast and her vicious malevolence. I find myself in hiding, not quite within the walls of the great Emerald City (once a home, now merely a distant memory), yet just past the outskirts of the poppy field. With a lack of proper resources in my occupancy, I have resorted to the age-old means of survival, living shamefully as a batrachophagous, despite the multitude of friends I have made who live their ephemeral lives as members of the amphibian kind. This witch of ours has made this existence a bletcherous one, but I have calculated one final, feeble attempt for my life, one I hope for your help with.
Thus, my dear gambrinous quidnuncs, though morale is low, it is not yet dissipated. I have heard, through the grapevine of grand gossips the flying monkeys give into on their regular skyward go-arounds, that THE BENEVOLENT SOCIETY FOR THE PROPAGATION OF ASSORTED TOMFOOLERY AND OTHER SORTS OF PECULIAR AND OTHERWISE ABSURDAND BAFFLING NONSENSE is engaging in their reputable, remarkable, rapturous RUMPUS this upcoming SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2ND. This got me thinking of quite the ultracrepidarian idea.
Rumpus, as you all are aware, carries energies greater than any other gathering known to New Orleans. Over the last 17 years, the T.U.L.A.N.E. J.U.G.G.L.I.N.G. C.L.U.B. has seen time/space abnormalities that border psychedelic at these grand gatherings. With the power of love, friendship, and the natural realm, I truly believe your organization can save me. So, COME TO OZ, fellow jugglers! And help me fend off evil as it afflicts those of this land of which I have become quite enamored.
But BEWARE, there is no way of discerning just what this witch and her hideous henchmen will have in the making. Be prepared for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING, for who knows what you will encounter in the Great Land of Oz.
With this, I leave you with a quote from the great beyond, A.K.A our beloved scripts:
“Part of planning invasions, I think, involves a great deal of pacing around at night-time and pipe smoking and whimsical decision making. I recommend getting a bell for the invasion. I’m not even kidding. I’ve been riding this tandem around for years with no bell.” (pg. ?, Trumpet et Al)
See you all for a night to remember,
Your Anthropologist
(p.s. getting in isn’t the problem, but rather getting out. No one would have a magical pair of shoes that could transport us out of Oz, would you?)