Gigot. Ugh. In the middle of the cellar sits a mighty peculiar pile of something. Could it be an igloo of grease? Or maybe a Volkswagen wearing pajamas? All at once a face comes out of it, and what a face! The features are covered with hair, the hair is covered with dirt. But just as the customers are about to scream, the monster waddles comically across the floor and revolves a massive iron wheel that looks as if it opened at least a sluiceway in Grand Coulee Dam. The pipe roars like Niagara, and from the end of it rushes—a...
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