mr and mrs ug

Many years ago mr and mrs ug joined in holy matrimony.
Many distiguished guests attended.
Mr and mrs cravebottom from beyond the giant waterfall.
Mr shortwick and his mistress from across lake flaccid.
Mr and mr sneezewind,
And many digniteries from the three ply toilet paper brigade.
Menu: braised mammoth, various nutritious grasses, a selection of endangered marsupials and other obscure delicacies.
All washed down with a wine made from putrifying fruits of various levels of decomposition.
Mr and mrs ug belonged to a highly developed utopian sociaty.
Filtered urine was a freely available source of drinking water, you could fry an egg with sunlight alone, and lust the opposite sex.
As long as you didn't look at them, talk to them or think about them.
Unless it was in the context of mixed indoor cricket or undertaking lessons on how to waltz or do the foxtrot.
Either that or being treated with the same medication without the will to live.
Ug was a lucky man.
He still had a full head of hair, still possessed his faculties and manhood.
And would soon become ug senior.
To teach ug junior the law and customs of this beautiful if flawed world.
Mrs ug would spend her days repairing frayed underware and humming along to television commercials.
And ug junior would study and become a backyard chemist/small claims lawyer.