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This Week In Weird Twitter, Volume 68

By: Rich Cromwell
8 min read

Haberdashery under a full moon.

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Rich Cromwell
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On September 23, 1641, a ship loaded with more than $1 billion in currency vanished. Where did the Merchant Royal, this ill-fated ship, go missing? Just off of Land’s End, Cornwall. Legend has it that the ship and its treasure were never recovered, but an enterprising young man known as Gary Comer, eager to please a lass who had caught his eye, knows the truth to be quite different.

Young Comer, you see, recovered the monies from the ocean floor, just off Land’s End, and headed to Wisconsin, although Wisconsin wasn’t aware that it was Wisconsin at the time. There, he started a clothing company and poured himself into his work making quality clothing for men, women, and children.

Alas, this dedication took a toll and he forgot to send for the young lass who had motivated him in the first place. It wasn’t until another young man, this one with the last name Bean, brought him a note from Cornwall that he realized it was too late.


And for that, he suffered. Quite a bit, actually.


Even his attempts to cheer himself up went awry. Especially this one which, strangely, resulted in lycanthropy.


Until he went down the dark path known as poetry.


Actually, wait, what?


Don’t discount the visions of wolves.


Especially when one is living his truth.


And he did warn us.


He also scared us.


While also inspiring us, much to our detriment.


Then, in the light of day, he awoke.


With fancy plans…and plans to match.


But no delusions of grandeur. Reality was delivering, even if it was unrealized.


And demanding nourishment.


This would never happen at Lands End.


This hat was part of Comer’s original collection.


You’d think a werewolf would’ve fared better, but no.


You know where you can buy all the supplies you’ll need for this expedition?


The dreamers see things differently.


Sometimes with a little help from chemistry.


Colonel Sanders?


The moon was full. Not sure what the director was expecting.


He should’ve transformed, but this is cool, too.


They just get ripped up when the moon comes out anyway.


But definitely just a person, right?


Are we sure that was a bird and not a shape-shifter?


That was me. My superpower isn’t super impressive, but it has some function.


Accepting that truth was similar to what this guy is going through.


Or are they, much like Soylent Green, people? Answer me!


The voice is coming from inside your head.


“Dearest Gary, you haven’th returnedeth to Land’s End in a fortnight and I have feelings on the subject.”


What if I told you there was a company that makes a bag specifically for that purpose?


Good thing this guy didn’t recover that treasure from the Merchant Royal.


I know where you can outfit it.


What about the ones on suits, jerk?


You could maybe put a little shipwreck in his bowl and let him dream of one day becoming a mail-order king.


But what if it ends at the bottom of a body of water? What then, huh? I’m staying mobile.


Gary, still forlorn over his lost love, raised his eyes. Things were looking up.


For he knew that no matter what, he’d probably done better by building an empire than by going back to the old country. Sure, he was in Wisconsin, but the cheese and beer were good. And, sure, he was a werewolf, but the clothing business cut down on expenses from all his destroyed clothes. Sometimes, it’s the little things, but he was also an idiot in all matters except haberdashery.

Richard Cromwell is a writer and senior contributor at The Federalist. He lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife, three daughters, and two crazy dogs. Co-host of the podcast Coffee & Cochon, you can find him on Facebook and Twitter, though you should probably avoid using social media.

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