Zee. Poo.

She will be a Tzar. He will be an astronaut.

It will all go to the orient, and perhaps purchase a million figs. He might have no money. He might love your daddy. She may pull your ears.

It will not be a monkey. It will be a monkey's cousin.

And when all is said and done, the world will, most likely, keep spinning. And that is good, for, if it should suddenly stop, the sheer force of the jarring would most likely send all of us into outer space, where we would freeze in the absolute zero temperatures, which would be quite nasty, although, I have my doubts that it would hurt all that much, being that the freezing might be instantaneous, in which case, hey, all the power to ya, man.

Dyba will not be Zee, but will instead be Poo. Zee shall come later, to join with the Poo and penguin. The penguin will fade away, like an old rock star, and all that will be left is Poo Zee Dyba. There will be a great earthquake, and the words shall shake, and become Zee Poo Dyba.

They will climb Mount Everest and be great heroes of our time.

They will lavish in poverty, eating rats and lice.

They will be great. They will be failures.

It will be. It will not.

He won't.

She will.

Dyba.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.ZeeZee.Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Zee.

Poo.

Ha!

!!!!!

!!!!

!!!

!!

!

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