I was perusing the inside of Bloomingdale's when the local monacled Hooting Monkey postman arrived with a telegram. It read thus :

MS OCELOT STOP YOU ARE IN GRAVE DANGER STOP BLOOMINGDALE'S CAN ERRUPT AT ANYTIME STOP GET OUT NOW STOP OR YOU SHALL DIE THE SAME DEATH AS THE KOOL AID MAN STOP

"What does that mean?" I asked the monocled postman. He shrugged, hooting. "It advises to leave or suffer the same death of the kool aid man, who is my mother's sister's uncle's father's second cousin twice removed." Feeling that leaving may be for the best, I walked away as my spotted tail whipped behind me. In the distance, Bloomingdale's exploded and it rained Hawaiian Punch for three days and three nights.

"The dear monocled Hooting Monkey postman!" I cried. At the moment the monkey sailed past me in the sky and landed in a large carniverous plant who had, fortunately, just converted to vegetarianism, without a scratch on him. I shouted in joy.

"Calooh! Calaay! Come to my arms, my beaminsh boy!" I chortled in my joy.

All's well that ends well.

Hooray!