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Foaming at the Mouth

October 23, 2012

 

We were stuck in a wood-log lodge in the forest section of a theme park. Grizzly Bear had played a concert in the lodge, and nobody wanted to leave. The park closed, so we had to spend the night. There was a heavy fog, and we heard wild theme-park characters deep in the woods. They  came one by one to feed on us. A foamed cowboy said hello, and came in for a drink. As soon as he was in, he ripped off one of the guest’s arms and gobbled it up. I managed to sneak up behind it and set it on fire. It ran, screaming, back into the forest.

Hundreds of foamed creatures came, from cute robot girls to wolves, but after the cowboy we weren’t as gullible. We didn’t let them in, and killed them if they tried. The wolf was foaming at the mouth, and blood was dripping from its eyes. It jumped at me, and I fought it off in the marsh. I held it beneath the water until it stopped breathing. I came back into the house cold, wet, and miserable.

Morning came, and people from many different countries got piled into the double-decker bus. Before I got on myself, I pulled out out a cloudy- coloured, jelly-like, rubbery string of balls from between my big toe and toe nail. A scientist told me that these rubbery creatures are similar to ticks and live in swamps.

Everybody on the bus had to prepare a snack from their home countries for everybody else’s stockings. Everybody made dry vegan cookies.

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