Thursday, December 21, 2017

The struggle of the dancing whiff of real - A Poem

'Can you give me an example'? Asked Jeff. 

'Sure. I'll just do all the fucking work as usual!' Responded Cal, in what was clearly a far more tense than exciting exchange. And by that I mean epically tense, and only minusculely exciting. And by minusculely exciting I mean, not at ALL exciting, but hey, at least no one got lit on fire.

Then Cal lit Jeff on fire.

‘Well now you're just taking the piss, that's really unnecessary’ responded Jeff

‘Sorry dude, I just hate when narrators take liberty, it’s just not their place, you know?’ Said Cal. 

‘I do Cal, I do’ replied Jeff. And then they hugged, which put the fire mostly out.

The bit of fire NOT put out burned for another twenty years. Within seven years it had became Holman County’s fifth most visited ‘human on fire’ based tourist attraction. Which helped the town, or at least soften the blow, from their ‘dildo factory on fire’ based financial AND ridicule based issues. I mean who’s idea was it to make dildos out of ground up Christmas lights anyway?

The point is, so yeah! Uh huh. That’s right. STILL want to hate on narrators you small county hating dicks? 

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