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One can hear the question from the man's lips: "My dear, what happened to the spoons?" and the answer which is beginning to fall from the mouth of his beloved: "There are No Spoons; There have never been Spoons", thus signalling the beginning of the man's descent into his own private hell where breakfast, lunch and dinner is served in Bowls with No Spoons.Kind of a New Yorker / Edward Gorey effect. Upper class. Polite yet Chilling. One wonders if the soup is served cold.