Greek Test

Phoebe was a philanthropist without many phobias. As a bibliophile, she donated often to one of her favorite charities: The library. She was hoping when she died (oh, perhaps I mean the euphemism "passed away") that she would hear a euphonious choir and feel euphoric. In the great macrocosm where she lived, her contributions were really microscopic.

One day, Phoebe contracted dysentery and dysfunction. She had it difficult. The physician administered anesthesia. The appendectomy turned into a gastrectomy and then the physician left an implement in her abdomen. This resulted in her demise.

There was no eulogy. A cacophony of noise was heard by all her relatives screaming who were to receive the inheritance. Those in her genealogy emerged from the crevices. Watching the antipodes arrive would make one believe in biogenesis. They were not homogeneous or harmonious. Hypertension and hyperactivity was running high with all the hypothesis that they would receive millions.

The patriarch read the eulogy. The lawyer read the will. Total anarchy broke out when they heard her millions were left to the LIBRARY! There was no sympathy and no empathy. It was pathetic! There were many psychopaths!

The moral of the story is: When someone reaches the end of their road, and undergoes some form of metamorphosis, don't be on the periphery like a parasite.

What in the world does this mean?