There is curling and then there is toe curling.

There is curling and then there is toe curling. And then there is toe curling while curling. Most people wouldn't want to combine the two, but Wendy Weagle wasn't most people.

Wendy Weagle, who excelled at curling with curled toes, was so excited when she got a phone call - Congratultions Wendy! You've won a curling iron! Imagine her disappointment when

it didn't work out. She got upset for at least two months. However, she got excited again when her friends, after having seen her so sad, raised some money to buy her a new one.

"Surprise!" they yelled as they presented the present. She admired bright green question marks. "Open the box! Open the box" they chanted. It was a new soul to replace her old one.

Though her new soul was pretty and shiny, it was also naive and impatient. She wished that she could have hung on to her old soul a bit longer, but it was no use. She absorbed

Probably better off, thought a dark part of her mind, but she squashed the idea back down into her subconscious. This was a new page in the notebook of her life.

At first, it didn't bother her that this page of her life was going to be written with a mustard crayon but as the days piled up on her, it started to bother her more & more until

she set it on fire. Unfortunately, she had created mustard gas, forcing her to flee to Venezuela to avoid prosecution for war crimes. There she continued her journal, with a teal

duck named Homer as her confidant. She and Homer spent many happy years in Venezuela living off an inherited oil reserve. Until, one day, Nazi Hunters assassinated them both.