The Word Cloud

So I went to the library to return a book yesterday and parked up outside a shop, the name and custom of which has been playing so heavily on my mind that I felt compelled to share it.  The shop was called: The House of Capes.  Well that can't be right, I hear some of you say.  A house built of capes?  Surely not?  And you'd be correct.  Still others I hear cry: A shop selling only capes?  Surely not?  My friends, your amazement is justified.  It was a shop selling nothing but nothing but capes.

Which got me thinking.  Who needs a cape these days anyway?  Presumably your average superhero already has a select batch in their secret lair or under their everyday suit?  And if they needed a replacement, isn't there a bespoke tailor to whom they all turn?  How else could they be sure that their logo is correctly emblazoned on the back, or that the bullet-proofing is correctly tested?  The House of Capes surely doesn't provide such a service, does it?

So anyway, if you are a regular person looking to become a superhero, maybe give The House of Capes a call.  Equally, if you are a genuine superhero and your cape is nothing but decorative (I am probably only talking to Superman here), why not price-match your current supplier?  In the meantime, I'm off to look for other stores named The House of... to see if I can find an even more ridiculous word with which someone has completed that phrase.  A House of Cheese, anyone?