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January 20, 2013

 

 

Sitting by the Grand Canal, Mendotta ate a

leisurely breakfast, next to a dishy Dane,

then in a water taxi, left for the Marco Polo,

thinking how her life was becoming insane.

 

She then boarded the front of the plane,

which was soon to be New York bound.

Feeling relieved to be rid of Percoughalees,

who she assumed was still on the ground.

 

Her brother, Brubellgot, was the captain,

and she felt in very safe hands, having

travelled thousands of air miles with him,

to far off exotic lands.

 

Her thoughts turned to Admiral Unkonkey, as

the plane, from the runway, lifted into the sky.

Her life had been so free and uncomplicated.

Drat Percoughalees, that smarmy, small fry!

 

 

 

 

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