"I feel like I'm growing a second head, man." This, from jittery Jeb.
Yeah, I can see it jutting out of your neck. You really are"
Manny said, dully, his thoughts in the far reaches of the universe.
The two of them were sitting atop a pile of gravel. Were they safe? No. Were they happy? Yes, in a way. They did both want to be right where they were, on top of a gravel pile they'd scrambled up a few moments before, intent on being on top of something. It had been a while since they'd felt they were on top of something. A few moments ago, they were walking along a country back road, lost, and terrified. Suddenly here they were, on top of the world, all the stars gleaming above, their besties next to them, both of them divinely content.
It wasn't long, though, before Jeb was the tippy top of an avalanche of stone, sliding suddenly down the face of a hill of baseball-sized stones.
Manny screamed, disinterested no more.
"Engage your second head buddy! Engage your second head!!"
Jeb's head
flew into the dead
and came out the other side
with a concussion
This is my entry to 
I used eg.gtimer, wrote until the five minute alarm went off, and tossed off that poem quickly after the timer went off. I then went back to proofread without changing any content, and without changing the poem at all.
Usually my freewrites are surprisingly coherent, nicely wrapped up, whole little stories. Sometimes they're so tight they kind of freak me out. And sometimes, like today's, they are downright trippy.
