The engine sputtered and died, and I knew it was going to be a bad day. The signpost up ahead proudly announced that I was about to enter the town of Hairy Corners. I quickly pulled a few necessities out of the trunk and prepared to search for somebody qualified to repair a vehicle such as mine.
The yellow pages turned up one "Swayback's School of the Mystickal Arts", with free towing and newts cheerfully accepted. I called them up. "We'll be right over. Master Guido is just finishing up a flower arrangement." Just as I was hanging up, I heard a scraping sound at my feet and discovered a midget with a scimitar and an ill-fitting robe. "Are you Master Guido?" "I'm his driver. Get in the chariot of flame over there, oh, here smear some of this gel on yourself first, yeah, over there, hurry up, I'm double-parked."
So we rode in glory through the sky, while I enjoyed a nougaty caramel taste sensation. Master Guido's driver, whose real name, I discovered after much cajoling, was "Epididymus", had to make a stop on the Astral Plane for some personal business. I took advantage of the opportunity and stopped at the duty-free shop. They had lots of liquor, or, as they preferred to put it, "spirits", but that was pretty much about it; apart from the booze, there were only a few articles of token kitsch and some really cheap blow-up angels. I was really disappointed.