We gotta find Dad. We gotta find Jessica's

We gotta find Dad. We gotta find Jessica's killer. In 1835, Samuel Colt made a special gun. They say this gun can kill anything. I've been having dreams. Sometimes they come true.

I needed the blind man. He would know where the Colt's 13-shooter was so I could kill the Queen, in cold blood I prayed. The Blind Man is neither Blind nor a man.

The Blind Man is a Seeing Woman. Her hair's short and she bumps into things. Did that cause the confusion? I dunno, I only write this stuff. She gave me the gun & I shot the queen

bee, causing the drones to rise up in protest. I ducked under a nearby steel washtub, but the Blind Seeing Woman was covered with swarming drones from head to toe. She bumped into

John Cleese, who walked in, declaring, "I, the lord of exquisite corpses, approve of this folding story!" He added one line and left it on the roof of the bee colony.

Benedict Cumberbatch, tending to his bees, discovered the folding story the next morning. He dashed off the next line with characteristic finesse and left it hanging from a tree.

0.0001 seconds later, flying squirrel Frumpy whizzed past the tree holding the folding story and stole it. "Now you'll never finish your story!" Frumpy cackled. Frumpy

was unaware that the tree had caught hold of his squirrelly tail and was in no mood to let it go. "We'll see who finishes this story," said the tree as Frumpy struggled

out of his squirrel suit. "Frumpy the Freeloading Freebooter!" cried the tree. "Feels good to be finished off by Gibber, don't it?" [shocking realization horns] [flatulence] (fin)