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I know it looks "too long" but read it, and I promise it will make you at least chuckle, if not, I will stab you in the face with a suturing iron.


As Tucker and I made our way though the woods as quickly as possible, we could hear the beast behind us. "Come on!" I shouted. Tucker Bill and I had been best of friends since the Fire Ant war of 2019.

Tucker saved my life on many occasions, and I often returned the favor. The time that sticks out in my mind the most is at the Battle of the Bulge in the Hill. I had lost both of my boots in the river, and just as three ants were about to crawl on me, Tucker jumped in and stepped on all of them.

Since the war ended, nearing two years ago now, Tucker had resorted to pixie sticks and yogurt to fill his needs. He had packed on some weight and the gleam of life that used to fill his face so vibrantly, had given way to the darkened face of a man that had gone too long without some pixie sticks and yogurt.

The man that used to be my best friend was now nothing more than a fat yogurt abuser. A snap of twigs not too far behind us, latched onto my attention, I stopped dead in my tracks and Tucker ran into me and fell to the ground about 10 feet in front of me.

He climbed to his feet with a great deal of effort, "What are you doing Tom?" he questioned. The rustling in the trees grew closer with every second. "Tom, we need to go." I noticed a long crudely sharpened stick on the ground; I bent down to pick it up.

I raised it to eye level and inspected it carefully, satisfied with my weapon I lowered it to my side and glared at Tucker with the look of an angry warrior who had just gotten kicked in the nuts or something. The look of disbelief on Tucker Bill's face is one I'll never forget, "Surely, you don't think you can kill this beast..." he gasped.

A fire lit in my soul, and the rage was more that I could contain. "Don’t, call me Shirley!" I screamed as I heaved the spear through Tucker's chest. My old war buddy clung to life long enough to see me whip Sasquatch's ass, and do my cowboy victory dance.

But as I returned to remove the spear from his chest, I heard Tucker's last words: "What the hell is the point of having a pet turtle?" That's one question I'll never find the answer to, or maybe I will; only time will tell.

-Dustin Kelly, The Cool Guy.
 

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haha. thats pretty funny. reminds me of some of the stuff that douglas adams wrote.
 
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