Jingledom

I created a new word today.
I patented it.
I packaged it.
Then I wrote a letter to the executive types who are interested in such a discovery.
Then I licked it shut.
Then I flattened it.
Then I gave myself a paper cut.
Then I accidentally discovered the real purpose of school glue.
Then I sat there upside down with those quiet red monkeys.
It was an awkward hour.
They’d made a habit of tickling the inside of my thought balloon and the man who was steering it.
Wow, had I really entered this fantastic new world by way of 50-passenger paper mache airplane?
Inside the cockpit of a million hyper-friendly ballroom pythons?
With purple suits and suave thirsty hairspray?
I listened to their radio once more.
Ah, yes, I had reached perfect Jingledom.
I just remembered my word.