Inquest

"I'm sorry, but none of that makes any sense to me."

"Sensory flint to be? Scanty reality seems to be. Aloft in the dungeon, dragging forth the dragon's fourth pleated skirt. For the first time, sensory flint to be?"

"You see, I know all the words, but the way you put them together is nonsensical."

"Unbiblical? Spiritual perhaps, dragging the drugs into the doorknob. Incantations can't afford plantations. Sensory flint -- Ha!"

"Exactly! 'Sensory flint' -- ha! indeed. What does 'sensory flint' even mean?"

"The golden mean is halfway there. It floats through the air. It scalds the scalp's hair. It's all like apples in pairs."

"Apples and pears?"

"Apples in pairs."

"Hm. I'm afraid I don't get it."

"Sensory flint."

"Whatever sort of flint, or fruit, or whatever. I don't understand it. You will just have to speak properly if you want to be understood."

-

"So? How about it?"

-

"So. This again?"

-

"Alright then. Have it your way."