Spin you fat bastard! Spin till you explode! Everything explodes! Explosions for days! For weeks! For years! These were the thoughts racing through my head. I will recall the events that lead up to such a vile mental state. It all started on a snowy day. My car got stuck on the side of the road. I was coming back from work. For whatever reason the boss kept us late. Even though the area was deemed a winter wonderland. It's original name was Death Blizzard! Stupid political correctness! The politicians bend to the will of the people so easily. But for some reason only on irrelevant issues.
One of life's grand mysteries!
Back to the car. I exit, to dig myself out of the ditch. First thing I needed was a shovel. Luckily there was a MacDonalds 500 feet away. I went in, grabbed a shovel from their janitor closet and walked out. The staff didn't notice. They were too busy stabbing the register. Apparently the manager dropped her keys in there as it closed. Ok I'm twisting the story. What really happened was I just walked in, grabbed the shovel from the closet and left. The employees looked pissed, but didn't stop me. My improvement to that part of the story makes it sound more interesting. Because what happens next is very dull, common in upper NY state.
On my way back to my car a Deer jumps out from the woods. It charges at me, knocking me down. It proceeds to lick it's lips. Then humps my leg in a wild passion. I smack it with the shovel and it runs away. "Stupid Deer." I remarked. Always trying to spread their STD called Lime Disease.
What? I should go into detail about Kablooie? Fuck you! It's a garbage game! Also my story will make sense after you are done reading it.
The snow storm was dumping foot after foot onto my car. I could barely see it. Once I got back I had to shovel it out. Then the tricky part. The wheels were spinning out in the snow. I watched this in a movie. You are supposed to drive really slow on a mat from your car. You put it underneath the problem wheel. But I didn't have a mat. So I used the plastic shovel. It was shattered into a million pieces. But it worked! I was out of the ditch. I thought about returning what was left of the mess. So I traveled back to the MacDonalds.
Inside the staff looked at me puzzled. The shovel was just a stick now. I threw it on the floor and left. They gave me a really mean look. I continued to ignore their passive aggressive glaring.
On the way back the car was buried by a thin layer of snow. I said, "Crapola!" The only solution was to use my body as a shovel. I threw myself on my car in a lustful manner. I rolled all over it like a stripper. I thrust as hard as I could. After I fell off it was time to vacate. As I go to grab the door I hear a screeching sound. It was another car hurdling toward me! It was trying to break, but couldn't. The snow caked over everything. The road, my dick, all of it.
The two cars hit. I'm smacked to the ground as they spin out. The driver in a panic gets out of his now destroyed red sports car. It's a teen with a cell phone. I get up, fortunately only winded. I managed to duck and roll on instinct. The kid says to me, "Are you alright mister? Moon. That spells Mon."
I said back, "Were you texting on your cell phone?"
The kid replies, "Oh no. That's how you get into car accidents. I was playing a game."
Astonished, but eager to know what it is I ask, "What game?"
He shows me, "Poop Tracker. Your poop spins down the toilet from explosive diarrhea."
Suddenly I remember back from my childhood. A memory I suppressed. I get flashbacks, "That sounds like Kablooie!"
I proceed to smash the kid's phone.
He replies, "I know you're angry. But we needed that to call the tow truck."
After I come to, "Fuck! Back to MacDonalds!"
After more staring from the angry employees the cop arrives on the scene. At first he tries to blame me for everything. I mention it's a rear end collision; into a car parked on the side of the road. The cop says he's dyslexic. What a relief. He offers to take me home. We stop off and buy some pizza. You were expecting donuts? Not all cops! The officer writes the report on his paper backwards. I mailed it in to the insurance company with a mirror. The next week I'm finishing up the paper work filling I received. It wants to know the game the kid was playing. I forgot the name, so I put Kablooie. Then I additionally decide to sue the game maker for the trauma. My mind swirls with inspiration. My dick gets hard! I write a 96 page suit, I make up some BS numbers, demanding $10 million dollars and 50 cents. It reads like a lunatic wrote it. I sign my name. That makes me look sane I thought to myself as I prepare a manila envelope.
After 6 months in the legal system I finally got a reply! "Lawsuit terminated with extreme prejudice." I should have sued Sonic.