On his estate in the Scottish Highlands, the eccentric billionaire Tommy O'Meer was throwing a party. Everyone had come, and a great programme had been put together for the amusement of the guests.

There was the famous comedian Dalph O'Laughster, of course.

There was also group of students who put on costumes and impersonated various tree seeds. It looked very unique.

Another stand-up comedian tried to make the guests laugh by cutting funny faces into various types of fruit.

And even a hairdresser artist had been hired who entertained the guests by giving them the most elaborate hairdos in under three minutes.

Among the guests, O'Meer's old business partner had come, Herr Müller, a distinguished German. He brought his wife along.

Furthermore, a group of single ladies turned up and chattered about this and that.

But all eyes really turned to the evening's top act, three lovely Chinese dancing girls named Ming, Ching and Li. The most beautiful one was Li, without a doubt, even though she had only one leg.

***

The party began, but the start was slow. Dalph O'Laughster told some jokes, but old Tommy O'Meer was not impressed. "You're boring", he snarled.

The tree-seed-dressers began their act, but they all had a horrible cold and sounded nasal, which did not make their act better. "Loog! We are beechnut!" they sang when they had dressed as beechnuts. Next, they put on pistachio and fir cone costomes. "Now we are bistachio! And now we are bretty fir gones!" they shouted hoarsely and sniffed.

Meanwhile, Müller's wife enjoyed the hairdresser artist. She made him curl her hair, straighten it again, braid it to pigtails and comb it to wild styles.

But her husband's mood was considerably worse. He had just discovered something was missing from his pocket. "Zomeone has my vallet gestolen!" he shouted in a thick German accent.

On the stage, the fruit artist cut an angry face into an apple, and a surprised face into a watermelon.

But the single ladies paid little attention. They were debating who was the best man to wed, in terms of old-age provisions. "You should marry a lawyer", one said. "No! A professor!" claimed another. "A manager", proposed a third one.

The Chinese girls, Ming, Ching and the one-legged Li, started to warm up.

***

"I bore O'Meer!" cried Dalph O'Laughster. He knew his career was ruined, and he was aghast. "Oh no! I bore O'Meer!"

"Yes, you do!" thundered the billionaire. "You're gone, Dalph!"

"And now our tob agt", announced the tree-dressing students and hopped around in acorn suits. "We are agorn! We are agorn!"

Müller's wife was absolutely fascinated by the hairdresser's tricks. "Now I want rasta locks! Do it!" she giggled. "No, wait, I know something even better. I want an afro! Do it now!" She clapped her hands enthusiastically. "A 'fro! Do it! 'Fro! Do!"

Meanwhile, the police questioned Müller about the stolen wallet. "I have gevitnessen it!" thundered Müller and pointed at two kids. "It vas zem! Zem!"

The fruit artist tried his last trick. He took a pear and cut a smiling mouth into it. "Look!" he cried. "I gave the pear a grin!"

The chattering ladies had reached some conclusion. "To really end up on the good side", they agreed, "you must marry a doc!"

Now the party was really heating up. The Chinese dancers did their best, and the lusty old billionaire could hardly be restrained by his servants, "Gimme Li!" he howled. "Gimme Li!"

"Yeah, she's a beauty", commented O'Laughster. "Look at the leg o'th'lass!"

***

At this moment, J.R.R. Tolkien passed by on his flying magic pipe. "These are all good character names", he decided, "I will use them all for a novel!"