Picture yourself at a party. You're digging the tunes. You've got a small plate holding mystery-filled pastry puffs in one hand, and a frosty beverage in the other. You're chatting to old friends and new. And then the door bursts open.
A person you've never seen before enters. He is wearing a plaid jacket and a big beaming grin. On the jacket, he has pinned hundreds of random items.
He walks over to your discussion group. You've been talking about a movie you all really enjoyed. He listens a moment, smiles, nods and says:
"Roquefort cheese is made through an elaborate process which encourages the cheese to mold. It must be done in a cheese press, promoting air pockets in the milk, and by carefully monitoring air temperature and humidity. To learn more about buying fresh bleu cheeses, check this out."
He unclips one of the products on his jacket and hands it to you. It is a
Wide World of Bleu Cheese brochure and something which may or may not be an actual sample of bleu cheese, but which smells suspiciously like rubber.
You hand it back to him saying you're lactose unsupportive, excuse yourself and decide to join another group quickly-- one perhaps less... cheese-infested.
Here, your friends are talking about some hot new technology you find fascinating. But you're only there for a moment when the Plaid-Clad Stranger shows up again. You're just in the middle of saying why you prefer this new technology over the old, when the stranger taps you on the shoulder and interjects:
"Conundrum spatula seven colander summertime Lord Byron hiccups."
You blink. Everyone in your circle stops what they're doing and stares.
The stranger doesn't seem to notice this reaction. In fact, he looks terribly pleased with himself. And this time, instead of passing out a brochure, he saunters away to another group of guests himself.
Well, now you're wondering what's wrong with this guy. Your eyes track him to where the host of the party is standing. The host is busy refreshing drinks, introducing folks who haven't met each other before, and making everyone feel at home.
And right in the middle of pouring martinis, the Plaid Stranger stops the host with a firm hand on his arm and proclaims:
"I like this forum. It is very good informative and overflow with happy niceness. I will return much often.... Antarctic brides! Meet hot Antarctic brides!"
And he thrusts one of the packages from his jacket at the host, which appears to be a knock-off Barbie doll wearing a fur hat with earflaps. The host is frozen with confusion. And that's when the stranger starts grabbing at the host's pants pocket, trying to relieve him of his wallet.
A few guests slap the Stranger off. "What are you doing? Who
is this guy? Did
you invite him?
I didn't invite him!"
At this point, the Stranger is being ushered out of the room, shouting in a tongue no one understands:
"Uybay ymay oductspray! Akemay igbay ashcay! On'tday ismay outay!"
The host is explaining desperately that, no, he has no idea who this guy is and maybe they should call the cops. Together, you manage to shove the Plaid Stranger out of the apartment, and you lock the door behind him.
Hands trembling with irritation, your host is pouring himself a martini. He shakes his head and pours you one, too. He says this is the third time this has happened this week, and he just keeps reporting it.
You can still see the shadow of stranger's feet hovering outside the door.
"Good morning, Sun Shines! " he says through the wall. "But I think you're wrong! This is very helpful to me but needs more gooder information yet. Contact me to discuss!"
So you do the only logical thing you can think of. You turn the music up. Way up.
