Find the prompt here:
"Well, this is a strange commission," said Whoblediboo, as she looked at the letter she received from Frank Tumbledum. It said:
Please paint for me an exact replica of my dead dog Gorp. I will send you his corpse, you should receive it by 5 o'clock tomorrow evening.
Whoblediboo looked at the message with an air of distaste floating around her face. She liked to paint just about anything, she was known for her willingness to paint anything, but it was odd to thing of a dead dog being sent by a special messenger or even FedEx or UPS, like, would they know they were transporting a dead dog? How long had the dog been dead? Was the dog taxidermied, or frozen, or freshly dead and starting to decompose? Hm, she though. Hm, hm, hmbledibum. But okay. It would be a fun challenge. The dog was dead already, no harm to it.
First, it was time for breakfast. Whoblediboo put the kettle on the stove to boil, for the morning making of the tea and oats, and opened the front door wide.