Fourth things first. The Krumblz are not a who. Not a what. Nor even a when. But actually a where. And that "where" is a magical land of abstract absurdity on the other side of the door to the appliance that once served as my kitchen oven.

First, third, sixth and second things – second, third, fourth and fifth. The who are called the Kookie Folkz. The when? Was some Christmas Eve once upon a few years ago. The how and what? During a self-cleaning cycle gone awry, an electrical short frankensteined an assortment of cookie crumbs into sentient, pantomiming creatures.

And fifth things last. Why? All I know is that they have expressed a deep empathic desire to save the crucible we humans inhabit ... before it's too late.

So, sit back. Relax. Sip some warm milk. And observe the Kookie Folkz as they frolic around in The Krumblz. But pay no heed to those strings. Or that man in the corner wearing the funny hat. We have all the time in the world to rearrange the deck chairs.