One day a prickly pear looked into a slightly smeared mirror. It found itself to be ugly, the pear I mean, not the mirror. It found itself on vacation, and in the bathroom of an Australian pub. Behind the prickly pear, the bidet was going ape-shit. It was spraying water on everything. The bidet kept screaming, “Bless this, bless that. And that.” Some of the toilet water hit the prickly pear, and it made the prickly pear wet. The errant wetness made the prickly pear look smooth. Suddenly, the prickly pear felt beautiful. It went out and hit on every non-prickly, domestic pear left in the Australian pub. In short, the prickly pear got a lot of action. Between you and me, Dr. Mann, that pear got more than its share of “down under”, if you know what I mean. Apparently, after only a really short time, I think 3 days, or something, there was over 60 million acres of newly sprouted prickly pear orchard across the continent. This new boom of bastardized pears was a cancerous blight upon the great Commonwealth of Australia. Many outback ecosystems faced extinction, but you cured it, Dr. Mann. You found a way to keep the prickly pear population in check. You were awarded the prestigious M.B.E. by none other than Queen Elizabeth II. She made the award herself. It took her six days, two pounds of brass, an alchemist's workshop, a philosopher’s stone, and seven different brands of glue-on sparkles to create it for you. As far as awards go, it was a pretty good one.
Sincerely,
Ryan
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