If ever you find yourself meandering about the forest and suddenly happen upon a seemingly unobtrusive, and yet mystically tantalizing small tent, just walk away. As you find yourself inexorably moving in the very direction in which I have just told you not to walk, I will advise you just once more; just… walk… away.
Undoubtedly, like so many before you, you will at this point disregard my sage warning once more, drawn unabashedly towards what you believe to be the clicking and whistling sounds of a troupe of dolphins. Need I remind you that you are in the middle of a forest? Please just stop walking!
By this point in time, should you continue, you are beyond the help of myself, or any mental health professional for that matter, if you do not turn around. You are now irrevocably helpless unless you decide, against your clearly very poor judgement, to heed this; my final attempt at offering you salvation.
You arrive at your destination and enter this veritably unsuitable source of deep sea creature din in the middle of the forest, whereupon you find yourself in a well decorated lounge of surprisingly considerable size. What happens next would inspire a sense of both fear and wonder in any reasonable person, but you and I both know that you are well beyond either by this point.
You now recognize yourself as standing face to face with the impossible; before you sit three of the most well dressed and austere aquatic mammals you have ever laid eyes upon. They sit about what you can only describe as a table, pyramidal in shape and standing inverted upon a single point, and just to the far side of them is an unnecessarily large fireplace. Peering at you expectantly and with some disdain for some time, through a monocle and over a mustache that would arguably rival that of my Great Aunt Ruth’s, the central figure of the three now expresses a distaste for your tardiness and your lack of biscuits but nonetheless offers you a seat and the opportunity for a fireside chat. You agree, and are then offered a simple choice between coffee or tea.
As you may recall, I stated prior that I bear one last piece of advice for you. Contrary to your actions up until this point, I strongly consider you observe this, the last glimmer of hope offered to all whom I have written to in your current position in time and space. For all who have ignored my counsel up until now – for all who find themselves in just such an odd and incomprehensible predicament and cannot choose which beverage to accept – for all in tents with porpoises, I implore you; do not drink the tea.