Greetings all you stylish people, and a big Hello to all our less
fortunate aquaintances. May Gapp bless all your wardrobes.

Being a member of the most stylish Guild on the Disc[1] as well as
fortunate enough to call myself a Gappite, I often have to fight off
hordes of Monks of Cool recruiters begging me to join their order.
In fact, merely walking down the street often presents itself with
problems such as people offering ludicrous payments[2] in return for
fashion advice. But even my dazzling smile and impeccable dress
sense couldn't protect me from the madness now infiltrating its way
into the heart of the Gappish priesthood!

Now, I like fluffy clothes. A nice long fluffy robe is just the
thing for the stylish lounger-about-the-house of a winter's evening.
And you can't beat a fluffy fur coat for enraging animal rights
activists...

Speaking of enraged, we come to the point of my post.

Upon mentioning the fact that I like fluffy clothes to a gathering of
Gappites[3] I was granted the opportunity to witness a most
incredible transformation. Within moments the peaceful group became
an unruly mob out for blood, lead by a particularly unbalanced Priest
by the name of Pothole... or was it Potash?

Regardless, Potboiler summarily declared me Unstylish for my self-
confessed sympathy for Fluff, and I soon found myself stripped of my
fine attire, bound, and forced to walk the plank of the seagoing
vessel His Great Gloriousness Gapp[4].

Forced to rely solely upon my wits (of which I am glad I have a
plentiful supply) and my naturally ellegant way with words[5], I
managed to delay that inevitable plunge into the inky depths until I
was able to work my bindings loose[6].

After contemptuously diving overboard and dispatching the circling
sharks with my concealed dagger[7] I returned to the deck and
attempted once more to reason with the unreasonable.

Pot-noodle would have none of this potential discourse, of course.
Upon his display of a significantly unfashionable amount of foam
around the mouth I considered it prudent to stage a strategic
withdrawal[8] and post this short notice as a warning to others.

Gappish followers, there is trouble a-brewing amongst our Priestly
heirarchy. Some, like Pot-pourri, declare All Fluff to be Forbidden,
whilst our High Priestess herself admits that Fluff in Moderation is
Acceptable Providing it Compliments Our Other Accessories. In the
sidelines lurk a few who love their fluffy clothes with a passion...

Don't get me wrong, my waredrobe is hardly overflowing with
Fluffies. It may, however, be prudent to hide those bunny ears for
the while. It's all too easy to be accused of Gufnorkism[9] in these
Interesting Times.

May Style be with you, always,
Jenni
Bouncing Sassinette
Risking Excommunication
Swimming Ashore

[1] Assassins, of course. Need you inquire?   [Back]
[2] What would I want with someone's first born son?   [Back]
[3] Or so they claimed!   [Back]
[4] Inquiring as to who was steering the ship, I was comforted to be
informed that Gapp himself was guiding their voyage. Eek!   [Back]
[5] It's okay to grovel, blubber, and beg for mercy as long as you
have an ulterior motive.   [Back]
[6] Thank goodness the knots where tied by a thief!   [Back]
[7] You don't ask, and I won't tell[10].   [Back]
[8] No, I did NOT run away.   [Back]
[9] A condition so horrible it defies description.   [Back]
[10] Ask and I still won't tell. :P