Two word story

[Griffin]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular elephant tusks.

[Swatopluk]

Looks like you jumped a page there, Griffin
We were 29 words beyond 'lenticular' already (due to one post adding only word instead of two).
Feel free to try again or put those two words at the end of the current string (if palatial elephant tusks suit you).

[Bluenose]

I fixed it

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were

[Swatopluk]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out

[Aphos]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold

[Swatopluk]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads

[Bluenose]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual

[Swatopluk]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous

[Griffin]

Apologies for my oversight. Cognition is not what it used to be.

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements

[Swatopluk]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements in the

[Bluenose]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements in the semi ecclesiastical

[Swatopluk]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements in the semi ecclesiastical style of

[Griffin]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements in the semi ecclesiastical style of Rupert Sweetman

[Swatopluk]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements in the semi ecclesiastical style of Rupert Sweetman in his

[Griffin]

Verily, my elephant forsooth raced by on a mission to Outer Magnolia without realising that speeding antelope would impede his ability to overcome the passing lane's camber without inexplicably becoming rather dizzy. After taking bogus directions from a deranged owl, he began to spiral outward over the hills while contemplating harmonic reverberation therapy for ingrown chakras.
Content with the results of its elaborate plan said owl hooted happily ever after causing a fairy's tail to change colour from subtle shades of azure to neon before it began to spasmodically oscillate like a racoon that had eaten sex toys left over from a conference about furry fetishism amongst erudite cancer survivors with laryngitis and sore knees.  People of that ilk were not overly mindful of their dental payments before February 30th.  Looking forward with ears all pointy and fluffy and dyed very dark in a vibrant shade of lilac, Mortimer thought about retirement when the trumpet sounded, but decided to enlist military buglers for a glorious heist. But, vexatiously, all buglers collectively bungled the bugaloo contest by dropping dead during daylight robberies on Ruminant Road.  The worst of the Times articles concerning abominable bugling, published in late geologic time (around 1850) showed that antedeluvian bugles sound exactly like pelagic organisms in dire need of bovine serum albumin.  Meanwhile, the conductor of the Bugles posthumous choir, Morris Necron, known for his elaborate renditions of Chopsticks, began to tear the Times Literary Supplement into extraordinary shapes of miniscule lenticular and bifocal forms of semiconvex accoustical banjos.   The consequent cacophony triggered a mighty response, an overwhelming wave of army ants hellbound on acquiring bitcoin at the village idiot's palatial elephant tusks that were hollowed out to hold bucket loads of virtual but virtuous tulip arrangements in the semi ecclesiastical style of Rupert Sweetman in his vestments with