Once there was a magnificent owl named Horatio. He was kind, benevolent, and thought himself to be very very wise. Horatio was also a large specimen of owl, weighing in at over 50 pounds - far too heavy to fly! One day, Horatio's rotund belly seemed a bit rounder and larger than usual. The puzzled bird took little note of this, even as the weeks passed and his furry tummy grew ever more distended. About 3 months later, it began to move. "Ah me," thought the bespectacled old owl. "Those mice are not agreeing with me tonight." He felt silly - strange - and on a whim let from the branch where he usually whiled away his evenings perched in meditation. Much to Horatio's surprise, he did not simply drop to the ground like a lump and instead soared upward to the dusky welkins. He gasped at the nocturnal beauty of the forest that stretched before him as the trees grew ever smaller and distant. A strange impulse stirred within his breast - he must fly westerly.
Before long, the mighty redwoods thinned and gave way to meadows, then dunes and rocky crags, and quickly he found himself winging high above the inky blackness of the ocean.
A sudden wrenching in his loins gave Horatio pause, and he gasped for breath.
From his belly, an eruption issued forth - hundreds of tiny seahorses had burst from the cloaca of the terrified bird and glinted like a multitude of diamonds in the moonlight as they dropped through the heavens to gracefully splash into the surf. There, they began a vibrant dance - a myriad of sparkling, soft yellow bodies swaying in rhythm with the ocean swells. A mighty basking shark, over 50 feet long, was feeding, heedless of the throng that whirled before him - and in one gulp, he ate them all up. The seahorses, however, didn't mind one bit, and within the great girth of the beast continued their hypnotic rhythm, pulsing the seawater and bile and stomach juices in a vibrant vibration that took the shape of a song.
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