A sinister gentleman's raincoat

"Moo!" said an objective correlative, wandering periphrastically down the road of a new road, having all the usual appurtenances like gravity, full stops and so on (go on), full stop. No main verb, however, like the other one. It was not a new cow, not even a moo-cow. In fact it was an old cow, like most relatives. Fortunately it was also self-contradictory, or at least deluded. Irony followed it — like a sinister gentleman in a '70s raincoat following a spy. Or even a spy in his seventies following a sinister gentleman's raincoat. "That's my raincoat!" said the sinister gentleman, who proved to be Pope Karswell, the famous dead possum and week-end flute-toting superhero.

    Next week: Life. The last soupy twist. (Or — my other ear's a spaceship.)