Mountain Madness

April is when the great scorpion travails down the mountain to mate and produce tiny scorpions in mans shoes, towells wet, underneath the beds...
April is when the foilage of the mountain explodes, bursting into rainbow clouds of butterflies and beauty, distracting man from where to step and what hides beneath the bed.
April is dangerous!

For April is when females of great bodymass and great social skill emerge upon the plains to recreate and procreate with men of weak will and lesser wit.
If you are a man and consider yourself of will and of wit, look to befriend one of these obese, yet remember to tell them tales but never truths, that they may reproduce their tale to slim, suspicious kin. For a female slender hates a male but loves the tale of myth of man, and through an agent slow and social, such a creature might fall into the myth of a mans arms that a male may mate a female not obese, but slim and silent...

A tale perplex, prejudical perhaps, foul play indeed. Yet a tale of foresight, as this petty reasoning of the plain of the plains, is but the wit of great heights...
For to survive the butterfly and the scorpion of the mountain requires slender silence, as the gluttony of the slow and social might soon fill the plains of the earth with ocean, and man must seek shelter upon the mountain - Side by side with beauty and with poison.
May May bring reason to my treason...