There was once a small country. Little people wore two kinds of suits there. Grey. And white. If you wore a grey suit, you were alright. The grey suits were cotton. They were hand-stitched together. They were tailor fit.

      The grey suited people would walk about like penguins. They would conduct business. They would relax after work. The grey pope would come out at noon at the great balcony of the Attican to wave to the greys by the city gate and say, “HELLO!”, and they were much spirited. Then they would play various games and go to sleep and start again the next day.
     
     On the OTHER side of the Attican building, there was another balcony. Smaller. The country facing THAT balcony were of those clad in white. They had a similiar life to the greys. They would come out to the balcony of THEIR pope. THEIR pope would NOT come out. He did NOT come out and wave and say hello. Those people stood there and felt empty. They would come out at noon each day and he wasn’t there.

Yeah, that’s all I have so far.

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