Thursday, September 2

He awoke with a start. It was the year 1573 in Italy. The start woke his wife up, who was sleeping next to him. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. He stared out the window thoughtfully. "I had a dream..."

"A good dream?"

"At first no, something about a play about a clown who killed people with a machete, then came out of the play and chased me around and killed some of my friends, and we found parts of corpses all in my front yard. But then I found this really great watch I could read even with my glasses off... then the important part... the part where I invent a magic violin."

"But you only make regular violins," she said, putting a concerned hand on his shoulder. "You always say those who make magic violins are selling out."

He grabbed her hand and threw it violently off his shoulder. "Dammit, wife! This is like no magic violin ever made! It does more than help you lose weight or enlarge your genitalia or make money with crazy investments, no, it does so much more..." He started coughing and didn't stop for at least a minute.

"What will it do?" she asked.

"You'll see," he whispered ominously. "We'll all see, and it'll be so great."

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