Lack of Daze of Whimsical: part 3-Full Jettison

Dearly departed and deported to another realm. The whelp scriar cried out to the bard. Depreciated value's strict enrapture enncapsulated invigorated within the young prince. Sultry women and succulent disfigurement incant to bisect his terms of endowement. A dowry laid upon the luge with a pale set atop a flagpole. The downtrodden prince elongated by preconceptions ordeals with alacrity. Toil and troubles on the doubles march like a hurried hare. Hovering above fits fate's departure like a glove on a sleeve of cloven ivy. Down a path alighted to the math of an equation of negation. Harrier jettison in space. With the confused look on the pretentious prince's face. Mutters to the furies demanding just cause. Just in case of Ragarnok-knock, knock, knocking on heaven's doorstep with a welcome mat that says, "Fate looms with broken brooms that are serendipidous depending on a ventured vacation in true paradise". Otherwise to spend eternity in Hel's filed off filter down the drain and trying not to strain your naughty selves' soul deposit on the flank of a backwards being...