And! Gentlemen, do you have a love of broccoli bordering on the indecent, but simply can't stand the indignity of the rear-blowing winds that dominate the forecast for your bottom's weather afterward? Has no amount of pants-layering been able to muffle the company-dispersing uproar? Perhaps, instead of silencing your body's unbearable naturalness, you should disguise it with a jaunty tune! Colonel Walleye's Piccolo Pants to the rescue! Yes, beans will truly become the musical fruit when your nether breath passes through a hardly bulging apparatus to produce a merry brief and apparently random jig. Colonel Walleye's Piccolo Pants: they'll know you farted but at least they'll dance to it!
As always, The Clockwork Cabaret races through the fog-shrouded alleys of Whitechapel with a pack of hounds in hot pursuit of the killer who would be called WCOM-LP Chapel Hill & Carrboro, fresh after a spate of saucy, threatening letter writing about watering regulations. THEY'LL RUE THE DAY! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!