... a hand-carved agronomicalitry. Very rare indeed! It is certainly as hideous as at is rare, if not more so. Bottom stared at it in Disgust.
Which leads us to the next question: why did they name this town Disgust? Surely everything here was disgusting, but did the state of things follow the name, or was the name a result of the state of things.
Whichever, he removed his technicolour dreamcoat, rolled it up and stuffed it in his saddlebag (it really was a nice coat, warm and soft, with all the colours of a dying dolphin). Then he set off to find the source of the object. Only one person alive could tell him where it came from, and where it belongs: his well-traveled cousin Pale. But where was Pale? When last heard of, he was fighting alongside Juan Valdez on the Venusian Plains. That would be the place to begin his search.
And that is where Pale was to be found, but the situation was not a happy one. Victory had seemed so close for Juan and Pale only a short time ago, but the tide of war had changed.
Rather, we should say, the tide had changed. Come in, actually. Venusian tides do not roll in and out like Earthly tides. During the heat of mid-day, the seas flash to steam, and form a cloud high above the surface. As the hemisphere cools in the evening, the clouds condense rapidly, and the tide falls rapidly from the sky. Thus, on Venus, a falling tide means a rising sea, and vice-versa.
Due to poor logistics, Juan and his troops had driven the enemy to the high ground, just as the tide came rapidly falling in upon them. There was little time to retreat, Pale had dragged Juan to the relative safety of a small rocky hill. They quickly dispatched the handful of enemy soldiers encamped there, and fell to the soaking rock in exhaustion, as the remainder of the troops fled the rising waters of the falling tide. A handful found freedom on the rock with Juan and Pale, others managed to retreat to high ground unoccupied by the enemy. Most, however, succumbed to the rising waters or the enemy occupying the hills to which they fled.
The aroma of brewed coffee filled the air, as the ripe beans were saturated with the steaming water flooding the fields in which they grew. Another sleepless night for both sides in this incessant struggle. If only...
Quod scripsi, scripsi.