So what exactly had Heidi Headstorm found in the family cornucopia?
A signed photograph of Jesus, taken shortly after his first album, “I Am the One”, failed to reach number one, and just before he decided to change his career from pop star to Son of God.
A Google Earth image of Napoleon Boneparte building sandcastles on
Jeffrey Archer’s conscience.
The silence between the words in Hamlet’s soliloquy.
Mother Theresa’s false eyelashes.
Mittens knitted from the wool of the lost sheep.
A collection of the
Parables of Elvis Presley, written in his native Chinese.
Martin Luther King’s scuba-diving suit, complete with shark bite.
Two-thousand-three-hundred-and-seventeen motorway cones at a fancy-dress party pretending to be prosthetic limbs.
And a partridge nailed to a pear tree.
She buried this knowledge in a mass grave and exchanged the Cornucopia on ebay for a 1962 vintage sunburst
Fender Stratocaster which turned out to be made from cardboard. It became the first item in her own, new cornucopia.