The man in the suit named Everett went to a family reunion. He didn't know any of the other people there. It was on a farm.
The suit named Everett exclaimed in horror when they drew nigh to the place of the reunion. They had crested the ridge, and saw before them a great plain, sprinkled with people in white leisure suits. They all turned to look incuriously at the new arrival, then turned back to their contemplation of the tree. For there was a large tree of many branches, many interwoven in complex patterns. The man and the suit left hurriedly.
They returned to the city. When they reached the outskirts, they found the streets clogged with street performers of all descriptions. No car could move for the buskers and jugglers and mimes. The suit named Everett growled, "I hate mimes." The man in the suit named Everett got out of the car and started killing the mimes, while the suit mumbled under its breath "A mime is a terrible thing to waste."
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The Den of Ubiquity/ Aaron V. Humphrey / firstname.lastname@example.org