Jean Piaget had a tugboat and, on it, a thousand soggy blankets. His net was so exhausted it told him so.
'Jean,' it groaned, 'No more fishing. I'm tearing apart as it is.'
Piaget turned to the net. 'Who wears the hat?'
'You. You own it.'
'And who holds aloft the spectacles?'
'You just did, Jean.'
Piaget slid them back up his nose and gripped the wheel again. 'Thank you for your honesty. Would you like one toot or two?'
'Two.' the net said, flapping open.
'I agree,' Piaget muttered, 'There look to be mountains up ahead.'
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