"A skeleton in the cupboard is a friend for life." — Alfred Jarry, Ubu Roi, Appendix (1896)
Every Thursday, at a time that cannot be predicted with precision but that falls, statistically, between the second and fourth hour after midday, a skeleton arrives at the Marktplatz der Donnerstage astride a broom. It lands with the energy of something that has been traveling a long distance at speed and is not particularly good at stopping. Stalls are overturned. Cabbages achieve velocities that structural engineers at the Institut have been trying to model since the previous century. The skeleton itself is never damaged. It stands, orients itself with what Caspar Löhnig insists is 'a purposeful pivot,' and then proceeds to cause chaos for a period of between forty minutes and two and a half hours before departing by the same means it arrived. The silence immediately before its landing — the held collective breath of Flautburg's entire population — is itself classified by Pneumatik scholars as the single most complex acoustic event in the city's weekly calendar. The nature and origi...
From the lore of Flatulence as Logos: The Pneumatic Language of the Disenfranchised.