I mentioned earlier that Mr. Nag longs for an olive tree of his own. Do you reckon his longing could be assuaged if I donned a set of longjohns and contorted myself?
Assuntina donned a suit of long, heavy woolen underwear to make her look more treelike and skipped out to pose in the olive grove. There she twisted wildly about for days imitating the wind-bent olive trees. More (if you can stand it).
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