2100 years ago, we found a sorcerer. This oracle had just graduated from the Delphi Academy of Art, specializing in fortune-telling using colors:
She doesn’t know to read Tarot, because plastic hasn’t been invented yet, not to mention a decorative crystal ball with all the lightning inside, for electricity was patent registered exclusively to the mighty God.
Colors representation is made by words only, not by fruits, nor by substances manufactured by Mexican cartels, for yet Columbus was not yet born, and consequently neither has the ketchup.
Although alcohol might be a good idea to get the sorcerer into The-Mood. But for some reason, we may never know about, the World Health Organization (WHO) of 2100 years ago, as a mediator between the men and spirits, didn’t yet accept Sake, potato-made beverages and Gin as part of the registration papers.
So, we are in the middle of a crisis. Our camel began to meow. Yes, we are not wrong, meow like a cat: ニャー, मियांउ, мяу, مواء.
And it is a disaster because he is the beloved queen supreme-leader of his herd, first-to-his-name camel… furthermore, he began to smoke our cigarettes, in public, in front of our wives!
Such an embarrassment, and we must fix it ASAP! Or else… our honor degrees that come along with the job description as Sirs will be chopped off, literally.
