Drive-thru speaker: Welcome to ShamanZone!

Drive-thru speaker: Welcome to ShamanZone! How may I take your reading?

"Um, I'll take the chicken entrails reading with an extra helping of hopeful obfuscation &I've got a coupon for a free palm reading." "Thankyou. Please pick up your order in the

" *crackle* the machine cut off. I gave it a tap but it was dead. Great! Now I didn't know where to go to get my palm read. I wandered over to the

backstreet doctor's shack. There were hundreds of slippers at the doorstep, probably stolen from the USSR. Maybe the doctor here could read my palm. I knocked on the office door.

I stood there for quite a long while and was about to leave, when Dr. Kropotnik yanked open the door. He handed me a note that said "Are you deaf?" then beckoned me into his shabby

bathroom where he opened the toilet lid. "Get in," he said. "You want me to what," I asked, amazed. He madly threw his hat on the ground and pointed, "Deaf deaf deaf! Get in!"

down the pipes we went spinning forever forever down.

How could he tell them he wasn't dead? He was just resting. They flushed him. He clung to a turd down in the sewer and caught his breath.

Then a tiny spark set off a huge methane explosion and he died. The end. (Note: No clownfish were harmed in the making of this FoldingStory.)