Beat / Pony / Upon / Watermelon

And seeming as if all of it were scribbled in the margins of the divine and future watermelons of M'ukchan'x - those, strobing melons of vaguely star-like anthropoid form held aloft by their interior chamberings, their vines like lickerish tethers, the accounting of which my primitive mind can only begin to grasp as they are large, and many mites live aboard the life giving, civilisation giving melons. Who could have known, that all of this was just a prelude to gargantuan night-singing city melons. That we would be reduced to insectoid lemur-bots trading crunchy fungal-soft in libidinized reader ports while the watermelons in imperial ecstasy came to a great and wise old end, as meditating god-melons whose body on chod-like echo housed their own fallen cultivators, now but a bouncy springy beatitude of huddling cavortium, mostly eye and chirpy, except for when the great melons telepathically herd them to diverting of great rivers, or the planting of endangered seeds. The M'ukchan'x are the eyes, and arms, and ears, of the God-like watermelons, their sweet cool electrically tingling pink brains, and the hard dense memory seeds which store there by the eons.


All the currently available helium on Earth will be depleted in about 40 years.