I sat on a shoe in Peru, and what do you know, a whoo came right out of the old shoe.
“Who are you?” the odd looking whoo cooed.
“I am the one who killed all of you,” I cooed to the little old whoo.
“Why do that?” cried the whoo.
“Because I don’t like you, that’s all, that’s all, I just don’t like you because you’re different from all.”
“What a stupid old reason,” the whoo cooed.
“Well, maybe that’s true, but that’s how I see it, because I live in a world with askew people, and things that are different we don’t construe, even if the things we know are untrue.”
“You silly old coo, it’s way overdue that you see what’s true, even though its new, but I cant change your mind with the world full of askew views.”
“Everyone’s afraid of true changes, because someone’s imbued into you fear that’s untrue, about change of the new.”
And with that the whoo walked right through, into his shoe, with ado in his mind and a hue look on his face.