There are twenty-three things or an avalanche of things and there's also a wasp, and he's looking at himself in the mirror, or else there's just one thing and I hope it's not the wasp. I hope it's Jenny saying hello.
   She's been having trouble with all the little wizards of Oz who keep knocking at her door looking for strawberries, and she throws the strawberries at their foreheads now but still they keep knocking.
   The wasp keeps flying into her forehead. She says, "Watch where you're going," but it doesn't make any difference.
   The people who live in the mansion down the road spent a long time searching for the right sort of servants who could fix raffles and draws, and shoot zebras if they had to, but they wouldn't have to. I thought the servants could help Jenny with the wizards and the wasp. They could shoot the wasp, if they had to.
   But they just sent all the wizards who call to their house over to her house. Now she won't open her front door when I call. The grey clouds form above and it's the end of the world. And all that's left to do is tap someone on the shoulder and say, "I drew a horsie."
   "Only half of it looks like a horse."
   Yeah, I know.