Kong fell from the spire in a colubrine tumble rather than a straight path to splat.

Tremors shook a flock’s bedground of afar while ground became bed upon where Kong now sat.

He asked for a banana for his boo-boo, but he was offered almond butter as salve instead.

Where was the slippery-when-wet sign that might have prevented this pain in perpetuity that lingers from the trip heels over head? ; )