In the realm of Whimsy everything’s verdant: Centaurs at leisure braid each other’s hair. Ogres belch as they work on their cross-stitch. Weeping willow branches sparkle like wind-chimes. Knights take care not to trample on butterflies, Lest the King be unable to brew his tea. Unsurprisingly, mimes have nothing to say. Velveteen unicorns eat day-glo batteries, Drink carbonated rainbows. On Thursdays the King distributes gold stars To everyone who has achieved.