TimTheTikiGod

The man is congruous among the sumptuous furniture of the room. He has the look of a high professor, small wire frame glasses resting perfectly on his nose. A pipe rests between his teeth, his eyes buried in a thick volume. The other languages try to ignore English, but his ego seems to fill the room. It was not so long ago English was stealing constantly from them, sometime sin bulk. Now, from Japanese to down to French, they are forced to adopt and adapt his words, not theirs. Suddenly, there is a flash of light and a great thunder of trumpets. An angel has appeared at English's elbow. The angel rests a calming hand on English's shoulder.