Fortunately, the Milk

Spoons are excellent. Sort of like forks, only not as stabby.

If the same object from two different times touches itself, one of two things will happen. Either the Universe will cease to exist. Or three remarkable dwarfs will dance through the streets with flowerpots on their heads.

You have your milk,” he said. “Where there is milk, there is hope.

No milk," I said. "No milk," said my sister. I watched my dad think about this. He looked like he was going to suggest that we have something for breakfast that you do not need milk for, like sausages, but then he looked like he remembered that, without milk, he couldn't have his tea. He had his "no tea" face. "You poor children," he said. "I will walk down to the shop on the corner. I will get milk.

The globby aliens went a very pale green. The pirates, shiny-black-hair-men, and the piranhas looked at them puzzled, seeking some kind of explanation, as did the wumpires. "If two things that are the same thing touch," proclaimed the volcano god, "then the whole Universe shall end. Thus sayeth the great and unutterable Splod." "How does a volcano know so much about transtemporal meta-science?" asked one of the pale green aliens. "Being a geological formation gives you a lot of time to think," said Splod. "Also, I subscribe to a number of learned journals.

Are there any ponies in this?" asked my sister. "I thought there would be ponies by now.

I think that there should have been some nice wumpires," said my sister, wistfully. "Nice, handsome, misunderstood wumpires." "There were not," said my father.

But it’s not later yet,” said Professor Steg. “It’s still now. It won’t be later until later.

Being a geological formation gives you a lot of time to think. Also, I subscribed to a number of learned journals.

How Do You Feel This Morning When You Know What You Did Last Night?

I opened the door. “Don’t do that,” said a green, globby person. “You’ll let the space-time continuum in.

All the dinosaurs have gone off into the stars, leaving the world to mammals.

My hands shook, but the milk did not touch the milk, and the Universe did not end.

And then they all sang a song called "I've Got a Loverly Bunch of Hard-hairy-wet-white-crunchers," which was an ancient dinosaur song that had apparently been written by Professor Steg's Aunt Button.

The person in the balloon basket said "I hope you don't mind me helping, but it looked like you were having problems down there." I said, "You're a Stegosaurus.

Then [the dinosaurs] sang me a song called, "Don't Go Down to the Tar Pits, Dear, Because I'm Getting Stuck on You.

Dinosaurs are reptiles, sir," said Professor Steg. "We do not go in for milk.