A Cautionary Tale
Once, there was a boy named Sam who maintained a blog. He was always faithful in updating his blog, to a point. See, Sam also liked to maintain a LIFE, and sometimes, he didn't update his blog as faithfully as he once did. Most people were okay with this, since they also had LIVES of their own. The exception was a tall, disgruntled girl named Sara Beverly, who demanded that Sam update his blog at her command. "I won't" said Sam. "Oh yes you will," shouted Sara, "or else I will gouge your eyes out with my mellon-baller." "You wouldn't dare," retorted Sam, and he went to have a tasty shrimp poboy at his local Cajun restaurant. Little did he know that his enemy, Sara Beverly, was his server that night. As he bit into the poboy, which had too much condiments and dressings on it AS USUAL, he espied a silver mellon-baller catch the light as it took a brilliant nose-dive into his orbs. It was the last thing Sam ever saw.
Three years later, Sam was doin' fine. True, he had lost his eyesight, and he could no longer blog (he guessed Beverly had never thought of that), but now he had a promising career in radio, which, as we all know, requires no vision at all (Sam could've gone into the same career if he'd lost another sense, like taste). One day, he was giving out concert tickets to a Dane Cook show, and a girl called in who was the 473rd caller or something which meant that she won. Sam asked, "and who are you going to take to this concert?" and the girl said "none other than my best friend Clarke Wolfe." Sam was astounded. "Does this happen to be Sara Beverly?" he asked. "Why yes!" Sara Beverly-girl caller answered. "When do I pick up the tickets?"
"Never, bitch," answered Sam, and hung up on her. Thusly, the concert tickets were given to the next caller, Landon, who had actually dialed the wrong number, so he glued the tickets to his school binder and sprinkled glitter on them and thought they looked cool. And so it happened that Clarke Wolfe, who had been listening to the radio at the time, kicked Sara Beverly in the shins everytime she was her forevermore.
The End.
Once, there was a boy named Sam who maintained a blog. He was always faithful in updating his blog, to a point. See, Sam also liked to maintain a LIFE, and sometimes, he didn't update his blog as faithfully as he once did. Most people were okay with this, since they also had LIVES of their own. The exception was a tall, disgruntled girl named Sara Beverly, who demanded that Sam update his blog at her command. "I won't" said Sam. "Oh yes you will," shouted Sara, "or else I will gouge your eyes out with my mellon-baller." "You wouldn't dare," retorted Sam, and he went to have a tasty shrimp poboy at his local Cajun restaurant. Little did he know that his enemy, Sara Beverly, was his server that night. As he bit into the poboy, which had too much condiments and dressings on it AS USUAL, he espied a silver mellon-baller catch the light as it took a brilliant nose-dive into his orbs. It was the last thing Sam ever saw.
Three years later, Sam was doin' fine. True, he had lost his eyesight, and he could no longer blog (he guessed Beverly had never thought of that), but now he had a promising career in radio, which, as we all know, requires no vision at all (Sam could've gone into the same career if he'd lost another sense, like taste). One day, he was giving out concert tickets to a Dane Cook show, and a girl called in who was the 473rd caller or something which meant that she won. Sam asked, "and who are you going to take to this concert?" and the girl said "none other than my best friend Clarke Wolfe." Sam was astounded. "Does this happen to be Sara Beverly?" he asked. "Why yes!" Sara Beverly-girl caller answered. "When do I pick up the tickets?"
"Never, bitch," answered Sam, and hung up on her. Thusly, the concert tickets were given to the next caller, Landon, who had actually dialed the wrong number, so he glued the tickets to his school binder and sprinkled glitter on them and thought they looked cool. And so it happened that Clarke Wolfe, who had been listening to the radio at the time, kicked Sara Beverly in the shins everytime she was her forevermore.
The End.
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