“Verily and forsooth,” replied Goodgulf darkly. “In the past year strange and fearful wonders I have seen. Fields sown with barley reap crabgrass and fungus, and even small gardens reject their artichoke hearts. There has been a hot day in December and a blue moon. Calendars are made with a month of Sundays and a blue-ribbon Holstein bore alive two insurance salesmen. The earth splits and the entrails of a goat were found tied in square knots. The face of the sun blackens and the skies have rained down soggy potato chips.”

“But what do all these things mean?” gasped Frito.

“Beats me,” said Goodgulf with a shrug, “but I thought it made good copy.”

Henry N. Beard and Douglas C. Kenney
Bored of the Rings