“I have been teaching Elvis the wonders of poetry,” ventured Mr Rochambeau as Finley made gagging faces in his bowl.
“Poetry!” beamed Archimedes, “Inspired! Which poets exactly?”
“All of them!” said the butler, throwing the cover off a large scroll-laden contraption with arms, levers and cogs galore. “I built this machine to boil all the great works into their purest essences: genius, rhythm, and philosophical blubbery. I then feed the result to the automaton in his porridge!”
“Marvellous!” gasped Archimedes, “What do you call it?”
“Apple cinnamon surprise.”
“No, the machine.”
“Ah! The Lithovisoreproductograph!”
“You suck at naming stuff,” observed Finley.
Archimedes and Mr Rochambeau both agreed the best course of action would be to see what Elvis could do with his vast knowledge of poetry and a dashing bowler hat.
Fig. 4: Scientists predict that every home will have a Lithovisoreproductograph by the turn of the century, as long as someone comes up with a better name.