Sealtiel sat in his cell and sulked, believing a break-out like his brethrens' to be beyond his begetter as adept attorneys had advised police to prohibit packages with perilous perishables and thus Sealtiel, so ceaselessly smart and subtle, hardly held any hope.
Heedful of hindrances like the victual veto, the man's mother mailed him a mild monograph, a tame tome causing no controversy amongst cops for the text's tedious title aroused no apprehension, for Critical Applied Linguistics sounded stuffy, stodgy, stale, and subdued.
Sealtiel wolfed down words, reveling in reader, finding faculty in phraseology, might in morphemes, power in portmanteaus, and commenced to communicate to his captors in insipid institutional idioms, prison parlance, the lexicon of law, judges' jargon, warden wording, police patois.
Baffled, befuddled, and bewildered by the rhetorical rampage, the confused custodians conjectured they had caught a cop, withheld a watchman, locked up a lawman, detained a deputy, and with abounding apologies, set Sealtiel free.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment