Celina Robschneider would go to the docks every morning to see if Roberto Forecast had returned from the sea. But most days she was disappointed because Roberto was still out to sea; catching clownfish and ridicufish. On those days she returned home to have a breakfast of pine needles, freshly mown sedge and garlic sauce. Celina hadn't been in the country very long, but she had already picked up many of the bad habits of the locals. One of these compelled her to say the made-up word "snikalore" after every sentence.
"What-will-you-have?" asked the barkeep, as Celina rode in on her donkey.
"Beer… snikalore," replied Celina.
"What did you call me?" asked the bartender; now suddenly offended. "You take your ass and get out of my bar!"
"I didn’t mean to call you 'snikalore;' snikalore," said Celina. But the barkeep just looked angrier so Celina rode her donkey back out of the door.
Now out in the street, Celina looked toward the sea and saw no sign of Roberto's boat.
"Well," she said, "I guess I'll go home snikalore."
Then she slapped her ass and rode away.
–KJC
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