Once upon a time, there was a little boy who had a word of the day
calendar. And though his boss was ignominious, the little boy could not
help but adulate him. The little boy hypothecated that he appeared less
than eupeptic before his chthonic master, he would be enmeshed in a
maelstrom of his supervisor's fury until he was little more than a
diaphanous shell of his former self. It so came to pass when the little
boy was involved in a contretemps with his taskmaster where he
accidentally besmirched his superior's rather fulgent attire. Nugatory,
though the comment was, the little boy was then forced to participate
in a Grand Guignol display which lead to the little boy's death.
The Desuetude