"Sir, please calm down. This car is bullet

"Sir, please calm down. This car is bullet proof." The driver slipped his sunglasses on and shut the little sliding door that separated him from the rest of the hummer.

But twentycent whiipped out his luger lighter & waved it at the mirrored window as Ikeeleeuusonabeetch's black limo rolled passed with a a bevy of gangsta babes in hoolah hoops

The limo ground to a halt, windows lowered, and Ikeelusonabeetch's men opened fire with tommy guns. It missed 20cent. His lit butane-soaked rag found the hash oil stash in the car,

a magnificent toss that careened into the limo car passenger compartment. But it didn’t explode - just smouldered into a dense fog of smoke and extremely pungent aromas. All of

the disco clowns in the car bailed out immediately, holding their big rubber noses and trying not to retch at the ghastly fumes. By the time the thirteenth clown had evacuated, the

children in the daycare began to look clearly bored of the performance. The children began a food fight with the clown and the clowns whipped out their very small car, running

errands for their Clown Mothers, whom no one ever saw but everyone feared. "There are layers and layers to creepy-clown society," my late friend Joseph informed me in 3rd grade.

3rd grade was a very strange year for my town. It seemed like everyone was expected to scare the living daylights outta me. Joseph did this the most.

I stood by the tree watching the gang approach me. Did they have another hoax for me to experience? It would be my turn instead. I quickly thought of the best way to scare them.

I whispered to the tree. By the time the gang arrived, I was safely ensconced in bark, ready to slumber for another thousand years.