These understandably were the source of an even more bizarre story
from his great uncle Oswald, which, however, Erwin choose at this
moment to forget, as he struggled with some effort to pull the boots on
awkwardly over his red sleeping socks and onto his feet, then to finish off
his trousseau a rather battered and singed floppy green felt hat which
sagged morosely about his head, giving him the overall appearance of a
large pile of garbage which has been left out in the weather for too long.
"Eee-by-Gum, It's finger-lickin good!" he cried in a serious
Yorkshire accent to the rear of the door, under the peculiar surmise this
would scatter even the most chicken-hearted of chickens and the even
occasional egg from his bedroom.
He then drew the door open and looked down at the egg, with a
contempt that turned to alarm, as he realized that it was no longer an
egg. Yes, it was white and it had come from a cat, but on the other hand it
was square.
He stared intently at the egg. Until that moment he had always
assumed that eggs were a sort of round shape, with stamps on one end
and came in grey cardboard cartons that had an alarming tendency to
disintegrate spontaneously whenever somebody left them on the bottom
shelf of the fridge for more than two days. Obviously this wasn't one of
those sort of eggs,but it was still an egg which meant that all previous
convictions that he had held towards these normally mundane objects
were put in a sort of pastoral limbo until he decided out what it really
was meant to be.
"I know,"he said in an rash show of intelligence," I shall call it a
cubecategg."
Erwin smiled at this idea,then smiled again when he realized he
had an idea all of his own, then smiled again upon reflecting he had had
an idea about an idea about an idea.
This process of thinking and smiling went on for some time and
might have gone on for ever, had he not realized that he was thinking
about thinking. At this point, he gave the whole thing up as a joke and
was about as useful as an broken light bulb in a blackout.
He glanced down at the cubecategg again, for suddenly the cube
began rocking from side to side and spinning wildly, gyrating faster and
faster, quickly standing up on a point, going bzzzzit then coming to an
abrupt stop.
Erwin watching with fascination this strange occurrence, pushed
back the battered hat off his brow and stuck his fingers in the belt of his
pyjamases.
"Well I be," he muttered in an Kentucky accent, then frowned, as
he realized that not only wasn't he from Kentucky but also he wasn't
