There were no verbs incorporated into the Sheboygan manuscript when the final draft drifted to shore in Havana, Cuba, at the turn of the century. A local sewage worker (who preferred to remain uncredited) found the manuscript, incorporated verbs, and sent it on to the publisher. This final, polished form is how it is presented to you here. The word masterpiece is thrown about very casually in this modern era, and there is no finer example of that than what you read here.

In his first posthumous work, Barry F. Schnell explores the depths of the feline psyche as it has never been extrapolated before. Barry F. Schnells final weeks along the beaches of Pitcairn Island were described by locals as being filled with arguments with palm trees, air quotes, and gluttonous excess. After cramming his manuscript into an emptied, dominated Jeroboam of pink champagne, Schnell grasped a wooden fork and walked into the ocean descending on a school of pufferfish never to be seen erect again.