An Adventure in OED

Groovy, the loan collector said, and adjusted her nautical equipment. By the way, the new password is Learning Disability, she added. That's not a password, I said, it's a pass expression, or a pass compound. Fuck off, she replied. We continued to hike through the god-forsaken desert, occasionally engaging in differential calculus. It was exactly at that moment that the possum crossed our path. The loan collector dropped to the ground shaking violently. It's the possum, she croaked. I'm allergic to possums. They aggravate my Bartholin's glands. Sorry, the possum said, it's a free desert, and settled in for a pitiless nap on a green placemat. The loan collector continued to have violent seizures, during which her slouch hat came off. Please, I appealed to the possum, I can't lose her- I need someone to carry the nautical equipment for me. Fine, the possum said, have it your way, and stomped off indignantly. After the possum had made off, and the loan collector's Bartholin's glands had dried back up, we continued our mission to find the lost sloth bear. I told you it wasn't going ot be in the Kalahari, the loan collector bitched. I know for a fact it's in Vatican City. Or Winnipeg. But it sure as hell isn't going to be in the Kalahari. Why on Earth not?, I retorted. People lose their minds here all the time. And if you can lose your mind, you sure as hell can lose a sloth bear like nothing. I mean, what would you miss first, your mind or your sloth bear?, I argued elegantly. the loan collector nodded thoughtfully and continued chewing on her favourite placebo. Alright, she said eventually, here's my ultimatum: if we haven't found the sloth bear by Monday, you will water my flesh-eating begonias for the rest of their life. Done deal, I said, already imagining the slow and painful death of the loan collector's carnivorous flora at my hands. As we approached the next dunetop, I could see our final destination in the distance: the Fig-wasp Figurine.


(To be continued)