He pressed the play button. "Goodbye world"

He pressed the play button. "Goodbye world" he proclaimed as he did so. then the song began to play. "7 AM Wakin' up in the morning, gotta be fresh gotta get down stairs"

and he thought, "Good God! What kind of song is that to play to my own suicide?" That's when his dog misty came up. Had she switched his death tape? He thought she was smiling

as "you are my sunshine" played on a loop. "Misty! You stupid dog, you saved my life." I put down the gun and picked up a frisbee. Misty was world champion before she was hit by

ne. At least that what I thought then. Little did I know that Misty was living a double life: doing ads by day and working as a bouncer at night. And you'll never guess

what else she was doing--teaching preschool. Quite the combination, though I suppose dealing with drunk idiots and three-year-old idiots took about the same skill set.

Either way, they were idiots. The three year olds proclaimed themselves purple penguins, which showed how brainwashed they were. It made me sick to see this stupidity.

The only ones I have ever laid eyes upon were black and white. With orange and black feet. What was wrong with this picture? I asked myself. There had to be more to that story.

Shrugging, I attended to other matters at hand: how to get them rounded into the back of my old pick-up truck. I dug through the trash in the back seat. Ah! My lasso! Now, if I

just... Damn! Those blamed critters were jostling against me, forcing me into the back of my pickup. One was releasing the handbrake with its mouth. I'm rolling backward... Whoooaa