It was the day.......... He would run away

It was the day.......... He would run away for the rest of my Life With the Mexican Drug Cartel

Because he stole 64 Chicos Tacos

and then he started rubbing them on the walls, leaving taco marks all over. He didn't care if he was getting his rental deposit back or not. This was art and he was determined to

live on through it, lest he die a second time. The post-modern-or-something-or-other ground beef was mashed into the plywood walls, but the hard shells weren't. His passion seeped

like a puss filled wound. God, his head hurt. The low ceiling in this place was really doing a number on him. All the stooping was making his back ache as well. He just needed

to speak to a lady with a puppet on his hand. His spine was seering and aching. This puppet, he needed anything, a sock with eyes, something, so he could finally tell her the

truth about Derek. He got a sock, sewed on buttons for eyes, bits of wool for a mane & drew nostrils with an indelible pen. He slipped it on his hand &, trembling, approached her

with placid silence. His sock puppet had transcended its own yarn and googly eyes. Derek's chest felt bruised and constricted, but somehow he told her, "I think you're beautiful."

And that was how his sock puppet learn to love itself despite being an unsightly creature roaming this earth, searching for another master. And yet Derek was never replaced..