Recently, I was dancing madly in the style of Morecambe and Wise at the sheer joy of having been married for two entire years. However, unlike those great men I am a mere amateur at many of the entertainment arts, including dancing. And so I somehow contrived to kick my own hand rather sharply somewhere behind my back. Not only did it hurt, but a later x-ray revealed that I had managed to fracture the joint and must wear a splint for weeks.
Prometheus, a Greek Titan and brother of Atlas, sister of Wendy, was also a big fan of Morecambe and Wise. So was Icarus. Indeed, they were inspired by the signature song to steal fire from the gods and bring it to men using wax-coated fennel. Men that Prometheus had previously shaped out of clay, breathed life into, and then noticed that they got cold at night. Might have saved a lot of trouble if he'd thought about that in advance and given us central heating instead. That, or Bovril.
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