In the grand hall of the museum, Lord Wellington stood before the majestic statue of David. The stout man with a monocle was scandalized by the sight before him.

“Well, I say, this is most unseemly!” Lord Wellington exclaimed.

“Unseemly, Wellington?” Mr. Cleaver, the thin man with a handlebar moustache, asked in surprise.

“Yes, quite!” Lord Wellington replied, his monocle glinting with indignation. “This statue, it’s, it’s… naked!”

“Naked? But Wellington, it’s a statue,” Mr. Cleaver said, confused.

“Yes, yes, I can see that, Cleaver,” Lord Wellington replied, his face growing red. “But must it be so…so…uncovered?”

“Uncovered? But Wellington, it’s been that way for centuries,” Mr. Cleaver said, trying to reason with his friend.

“Well, I for one have had enough of it!” Lord Wellington declared, his monocle nearly popping out of his eye. “I demand that we cover it up immediately!”

And so, Lord Wellington went to the local toy store and purchased a large, inflatable flamingo. He then placed the flamingo on top of the statue’s more sensitive areas.

But his efforts were in vain. The flamingo kept losing air and deflating, revealing the statue once again.

Lord Wellington was about to give up hope when he stumbled upon a group of tourists taking selfies. Inspired, he went to a local costume shop and purchased a large, inflatable sumo wrestler suit.

He then proceeded to place the suit over the statue, covering it from head to toe. And finally, he was satisfied.

But as he stood back to admire his handiwork, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of absurdity.

For the homunculus within him, an unsettling thought stirred, as if a tiny voice whispered in his ear: “What if we, too, were covered up in inflatable suits, disguising our true nature from the world?

What if our nakedness, our vulnerability, was hidden away behind layers of absurdity and artificiality? Would we even recognize ourselves in the reflection?”

And with that, Lord Wellington’s scoffed, broke wind and passed out.