The weary traveler approached a fork in the road. For the last hour, he had been contemplating this tremendous decision. It had taken a toll on his health. He hated making choices. To complicate matters, one path led to certain painful death, while the other to safe passage.
The banana was furious in thought. He was terrifically annoyed by an earworm. It was stuck, but good. It was slowly driving him insane. This will certainly be the last time he would go to Bed, Bath And Beyond®. They should warn you if they are going to pipe in that sort of music. Besides, the banana had just figured out that ‘beyond’ really means merchandise that doesn’t sell at T.J. Maxx®.
If Elvis Aron Presley was anything, he was “regular” and this Christmas was no different. In fact, he was so regular this morning; he had already flushed twice. The bathroom fan was industrial as all get out, and it was doing its job loudly and proficiently. Instead of the stench of poop and urine, it was replaced by myrrh and frankincense. Elvis moaned as a turd snaked out of his orifice obscured by pearly white porcelain. There was a plop, water splashed on his unbeknownst to him, growing white ass cheeks. No one in his posse dared to tell ‘E’ that he was gaining weight. For good measure, Elvis flushed again. He laughed out loud thinking about his honor bound duty.
The tiny village was in complete disarray. First, the peaceful villagers were overtaken by pillaging Huns, and let me tell you, these Huns were total dicks, they took all their food and women, leaving behind a tragic hungry sausage population. Second, nature, in the form of an unsympathetic typhoon devastated their homes. Finally, third, they were dimwitted.