RAY: An obscenely wealthy hedge fund manager named Throckmorton Bottomfeeder IV decided to build for himself and his trophy wife a modest little 40,000 square foot home. It was a stone castle complete with an observation tower at one end that was almost 100 feet high -- perfect, they thought, to spot from afar the first wave of angry and disgruntled investors, the kind with the pitchforks and the torches.
The Bottomfeeders had employed the finest masons in all the land to ensure that their castle was as close to the real thing as possible. As the tower was constructed by a very talented and skilled crew of masons working on the outside, another even more skilled crew constructed a spiraling stone staircase that climbed the inside wall of the stone castle until it reached the observation deck at the top.
Finally, after many months, the castle was completed just in time to coincide with the end of the Bottomfeeders' lengthy vacation. And as you might expect upon their return, the BFs, as we will call them now, scrutinized the construction, pored over every detail and found everything perfect. The workers were brimming with pride. Then they came to the tower and Lady Bottomfeeder stood there in awe. Her eyes followed that spiral stair all the way to the top. Then her jaw dropped. "This won't do. You must take it down at once to fix it. It's all wrong. You'd never see anything so ill-conceived in Europe. Why, we'll be the laughingstocks of the entire world."
What was she talking about?
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It must have been on the outside if she could see it from outside. Pretty silly as far as castles go because it makes it too easy to storm the castle when they're on the outside...
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It says the staircase was built on the inside though?
As the tower was constructed by a very talented and skilled crew of masons working on the outside, another even more skilled crew constructed a spiraling stone staircase that climbed the inside wall of the stone castle until it reached the observation deck at the top.
I think the spiral is going the wrong way. Something about holding the sword in your right hand while going down the stairs, and being able to attack those climbing the stairs?
A flock of flirting flamingos is pure, passionate, pink pandemonium-a frenetic flamingle-mangle-a discordant discotheque of delirious dancing, flamboyant feathers, and flamingo lingo.
