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This singular alignment of terrestrial bodies - you in the outhouse, Egon
sitting next to you in a deckchair, Egon's breakfast bacon having been
consumed - could mean only one of two things. Either it was raining - or it was not raining. Both eventualities seem equally bleak to you. If it was raining then you would go round to Chakrabati's house and sell your soul. It was inevitable. If it was not raining you would not go round to Chakrabati's house and therefore would not sell your soul. In which case you might as well start making the sandwiches now.
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12/7/2005 3:35:24 AM
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