No clue

No Clue by J.B. Pravda

'One day, Korney the frog was hopping merrily along, enjoying the usual
delights and frolics that his unique amphibious species had done for
eons in life's expansive, even miraculous web woven by a seemingly
limitless cosmic font of energy and information in the known universe,
until, exhausted, he suddenly expired in a final moment of enormous
ennui, realizing, within his equally unique consciousness, that he was
missing parts where they should have been and featured others where
that omniscient force never intended, all occasioned by 'better living
through chemistry', the cruelly fraudulent patina for a rapacious
corporate disregard for the consequences of their meglomaniacal
ego-driven, testosteronic urge to conquer, or, alternatively----and
with no greater consideration------greed.'
"That's pretty good, Ms. Green&;#8230;.but, we'll have to tone it
down a bit, in deference to our bigger advertisers" expounded 28 year
old Frank Lee Spurning, the top editor a the nation's leading weekly,
as he rose from his desk, aided by the prosthesis for a leg he had
needed since birth.