The wayfarer, upon perceiving the pathway to truth, saw that each weed was a singular knife. "Hey," he thought to himself, "there's a hell of a good universe next door. Maybe they have some nice steaks there." So he took one of the knives and headed off.

He didn't really know how to get to the universe next door, so he asked the first person he met, who turned out to be a small bunny. "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings," said the bunny. "No, your name is medium rare," said the wayfarer, who skewered the bunny with truth.

After his hearty meal, he gyred and gimbled in the wabe briefly. Afterwards, as in uffish thought he stood, an idea came to him. He started to go home, and suddenly realized that he was going on little cat feet, so instead he went to the podiatrist.

The podiatrist muzzled him and left him for dead on a table, so he called the credit card company to dispute the charges. They informed him that he was late on his incarnation payments, and that if he continued in his delinquency, they would repossess his body. Dismayed, he considered going to consult a good friend of his for financial advice. His friend, anyone, lived in a pretty how town, which was quite a distance, especially on little cat feet, but he persevered and finally glimpsed the up so floating many bells down in the distance. It was, however, the last thing he saw, as the repo elves began removing his cells and placing them in tiny boxes.