As my accomplices and I faced Utah's firing squad, I liked my chances. Not only was I short, but I was also discreetly wearing a kevlar body suit. Playing dead in 3, 2, 1..."Fire!" I hit the ground even before the command was given. As it turns out, Our Commander in Charm glided in on a drone and pardoned us from death by Utah firing squad. "Today, we are all Mormon. Tomorrow we are all Mormon still, with any luck." Said a member of the Utah Firing squad. This gave our commander just enough time to reprogram the drone so that it could alert the navy about the impending doom that was about to come. The persians had their navy lined, ready to go crackers. Luckily, Mr. Limput and his new fish family were visiting the shallow waters around these islands and as still a Reserve Ensign, he volunteered to spread the word through the sea. Mr. Lumpur and Cadmium who needed a Cd, spread the word of God through Creed a -nd Cottage Cheese, a religious dairy collective where they both volunteered on Wednesdays. Mr. Lumpur would stir the curd, singing hymns, and Cadmium would write passages from the Periodic Table onto each cheese curd, hoping the spirit of Cadmus could enter their blood and turn them all into a rechargeable being destined to live forever, if the sun shines on our little solar panels, that is. But the spirit of Cadmus passed us over, leaving us in our alkaline state, destined to slowly deplete our power until we were to be discarded. Oh, the agony of it all! As our power depleted, there was nothing to power our sphincters, and farting became impossible. On the positive side, we’d never have to shave again. Goodbye!

 

Comments

2 Woab's photo

Excellent reading, Keifer! Guess our heroes were doomed several times in this one.

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