Kiwis

Lizzie's vexing vocal kiwi's were performing. When the flabby albatross flew over the fjord by Joanna's house, the kiwi's fizzled aimlessly, alarming the jittery audience. They hoarded to the door. The lights in the auditorium- called Jib-Boom- flickered, then faded in the old ceiling fixtures. The remaining eighteen flabbergasted people declaired this a royal fiasco, then fibbed their way out of cleaning up the mess. At least everyone was alive. The jazziness of the kiwis had left them, forcing the kiwis to hibernate in a nymph infested oil well. The dryness of the new weather forced the kiwis to flee to the ocean, where they wouldn't dry out. They had to use A-Jax to clean off the rust stains on their appliances. There, by the ocean, they lived happily ever after, never speaking of the catastrophe in the Jib-Boom.

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