It was a warm summer day in Pseudo-Elizabethan England. Willardslip Kempspirits was enjoying a stroll through his gardens when he happened upon Castledon Thrushfinger.
"What hey, Castledon," cried Willardslip as he espied the itenerant migrant.
"Just doing a little codswalloping about in your illustrious conservatory," replied Castledon.
"Isn't there some other charnel house in which you can go codswalloping about?" inquired Willardslip.
"Well, in all perfect honesty..." began Castledon, but at that exact moment, Umberleigh Porridgegorst chose to make his appearance. "Greetings my fellow wanderers," exclaimed Umbderleigh.
"I say," remarked Willardslip, "weren't you commited to Hanwell Asylum back in the double oughts?"
"Too true," remarked Umberleigh, "but I have since taken up abode in your fine necropolis. There seem to be more jackbits lying about."
Willardslip frothed at the mouth, chagrined and antagonized. "Don't you go attacking all of my jackbits! I was hoarding those for my dear Ellisweal Complingreave! May her beauty illuminate the darkest privy!"
Umberleigh was taken aback by this outward display of emotional fortitude, and absconded immediately, stricken and abashed.
"Well now, that solves the immediate crises."
"Don't you mean crisis? There was only one, after all," Castledon illustrated.
"Castledon! What are you still doing here, mucking about in my ployandrium?" Willardslip enormously vociferated.
"Just a little codswalloping," Castledon retaliated. "I didn't think you would mind."
"Just you mind my prize daisies!" exterpolated Willardslip.
"Oh, you mean these?" announced Umberleigh, who was happily trodding upon Castledons prize daisies with wild abandon.
"Yes, those," Willardslip acknowledged, hellfire raging in his eyes.
And at that exact moment a deus ex machina came along and set the space-time continuum back to rights and everybody lived happily ever after.