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An emotional excerpt from the diary of a Panda addict
The worst thing about being kidnapped by a group of Environmentalist radicals is that you have to eat the same crap as them. It could always be worse though. You always have to optimistic in a negative situation.
If you were kidnapped by a group of cannibals you would either be the meal of choice or if you were really skinny they would probably try to fatten you up by feeding you other skinny people. Mathematics for cannibals; 4 skinny people = 1 big juicy person. Or even worse you could be kidnapped by a group of trolls. O so trolls aren’t real you say? Well, I hate to break it to you, my small dim witted friend, but they are very much alive, just like you, me and Joan Rivers. I really have no idea how that woman is still living after the amount of surgeries she’s had. That woman has more operations than that poor fool in that old school game of operation. That operations game makes no sense either. That’s why modern medicine is going all to hell, it’s because today’s doctors favorite past time as children was to remove essential parts of the body. Now in their medical careers they are removing essential parts of the human body with dire consequences.
Ok back to our main topic, environmentalists are terrible captors. So matt and I are placed inside a tuft shed tied to each other. Luckily they placed us in a tuft shed though. We weren’t in the slightest degree fearful for our lives in the incidence of a car falling on the tuft shed and ultimately crushing us to death. Matt and I knew that from the tuft shed infomercials that you can drive a truck on a tuft shed and it will stand. These crazy buffoons had filled the entire shed up with packing peanuts so Matt and I were forced to tread packing peanuts for the better part of 8 hours. It may sound ridiculously easy to you but it’s not! Packing peanuts are zero help when it comes to the buoyancy of heavier objects. I was wishing that we were kidnapped by Mormons because they probably would’ve just slung us into salt lake to drown. Yeah right! I’m sure Naina would float just fine.
We had no idea we had only been there for eight hours when the door swung open. We couldn’t tell the passing of daylight because we were placed in an industrial tuft shed. It definitely wasn’t a custom built, pre-planned operation. There were no windows and the whole place smelled like pine-sol. Yeah I know what you’re thinking, pine sol? Well that’s what it smelt like to me. Don’t argue!
Ok back to the story. The door swings open and this tall guy with beefy calves and a big ‘ol beard looks at both of us. He looks like a band member of ZZ top. Meanwhile, all the packing peanuts are flooding out of the shed and they sweep Matt and I out. Matt and I were so exhausted from treading packing peanuts that we just sat on the ground out of breath. Then another guy comes up with similar features except he doesn’t have a full beard, and he has really skinny legs. Ok actually, he didn’t look a thing like the first guy I was telling you about. They sat us down on lawn chairs and bound our arms and legs with dental floss. They doused us with gasoline and Matt and I lit up like two roman candles. The charred flesh smelt delicious and Matt and I eventually ate each other to death. No, that didn’t happen at all! Obviously environmentalists would have doused us with environmentally friendly ethanol gasoline instead.
They force fed us brussel sprouts and tofu. Man, do I hate the taste of baby seal! What is a brussel sprout exactly? I mean, it’s just a wee little sprout so it’s bound to grow into something bigger and more grand right? I present to you a full grown brussel. No one has actually seen a full grown brussel for many years because the vegetable industry pulls them all up when they are little sprouts. First thing Christopher Columbus did when he landed, besides genocide the native populous, was cut down all the full grown brussels.
Now you’re probably wondering how Matt and I landed ourselves in this mess. That means we’re going to have to start in the very beginning. Matt and I were born in the same hospital in the same room at the same time by the same howler monkey. No, that’s really not true at all. They were definitely different howler monkeys. The doctors said that me and matt would not live out the week; we prevailed. The birth father was unknown at the time for either of us but it is legend, in the civilized world, that there was no father rather it was the work of honey bees who pollinated our birth mothers. It was also believed that we were both brought into the world by a stork but that is simple ignorance and crazy superstition. We all know the migratory pattern for storks would not work for all births to be world wide. I never heard of a Chinese stork and those people pop out like twelve kids a second!
Now, that you know the story of our births, I’m going to skip up a bit closer to where we were at in the story. Matt and I were going to grab a delectable bite to eat at deli mart when we realized that it was a Friday of lent and if we even thought about eating meat we would feel the wrath of Bob Shields. So instead we decided to grab some panda. I was all jittery when we pulled up. That’s one things Matt hates; when you get all jittery but you simply can’t help it when you go to your local Panda express restaurant.
A black van pulled up, blocking our way to panda and out jumped three masked men. One man had a ski mask on and he was the largest of the three. The next guy was in a phantom of the opera mask. I don’t know what that was all about. Maybe he was one of those fine arts guys back in high school. Yeah that’s right Tyler I said it, one of those fine arts guys! The third masked man well, I wasn’t too sure if he was masked or not but if he wasn’t, he sure was ugly! He was a cross between Freddy mercury and Mick Jagger. Two of the ugliest men to ever live combined in one man.
Matt and I were truly speechless. No seriously, I doubt that you would have anything to say too if you were barred from panda by three masked men in a black van. Even great speakers would be dumbfounded at the sight of these three odd individuals. Do you think Abraham Lincoln could have written the Emancipation Proclamation if three masked men in a black van drove into the oval office? Very unlikely indeed!! They call that one bed in the white house Lincoln’s bed; does anyone actually sleep in that bed? If they did I would have to disapprove! That’s just weird, I mean I know it’s a part of our history and all but you don’t see our current presidents wearing Thomas Jefferson’s socks! “Mr. President it’s required that you wear Thomas Jefferson’s socks to the inaugural ball.” That would be just absolutely ridiculous!
Anyway, so these two masked men grabbed us and threw us head first into the van. If you were paying close attention to this story you may have noticed in the previous sentence I said, “Two masked men” (previous sentence)!! Oh the cleverness of me!!
Before we knew it, they had pulled black hoods over our heads and stun gunned us! I’d never been stunned gunned before and let me tell you, the sensation is incredible! No it was actually a very traumatic experience. Truth be told, I sh@# myself. The most fascinating thing about that was I hadn’t even eaten yet. Well it’s like the Old Russian saying, “Eat first, poop later.”
A little time after that was when Matt and I woke up in that pine-sol smelling tuft shed. We were informed by the two captors who opened the door that we would soon have an audience with the “boss”. I had no idea what the heck that was supposed to mean. I began to wonder if the boss was a person or some weird combination of a George Foreman grill, handlebars of a tricycle, and a chia pet morphed into some deranged torture device. Well, whatever it was, it didn’t sound too promising. I tried to release myself from the dental floss bonds but there was simply too much dental floss!
I tried to talk to Matt but he refused to respond. He seemed to think that the whole incident was my fault! Pretty soon we learned who the “boss” was. The boss turned out not to be a torture device at all but just as intimidating. Matt and I were face to face with our old creative writing teacher, Mrs. Huchmala. She hadn’t aged a day and I still don’t know how she did it. Maybe she used the best face cream on the planet which is a mixture of bologna sandwich, Lipton green tea, and an apple. O wait, sorry, I just described my lunch yesterday.
She didn’t seem pleased at all to see us. “I told you specifically to bring Harkins to me you fools!!” Harkins…. That name sounded o so familiar but I couldn’t match the name with a face. I sat their pondering the strange word, Harkins. Then I knew immediately what it was. It wasn’t an it at all, but a he! Tyler Harkins the only person I ever met who would cuss out his shadow for following to close, the same person who could say nearly any word backwards except for the word “poop”. That word simply baffled him and soon ended his whole career as a traveling showman. He could never quite figure out how to say it backwards.
Suddenly my destiny was revealed to me, I must save Tyler Harkins. “Where should we put them then?” asked one of the guards. “It matters little what you do with them, bring me Harkins.” She didn’t sound too pleased at all.
The guards untied our bonds and were debating what to do with us. Suddenly they broke out into English accents for no apparent reason and on said, “Do you bite your thumb at me sir?” “Nay but I do bite my thumb sir.” They began quarreling in a similar fashion and this is when Matt and I made a daring escape.
We ran across the barren desert and we did not die of thirst. No that’s a song. Well we made for our captor’s vehicles which were unwisely parked in the view of their captives. And like most adventurous stories, the keys to the vehicles were left conveniently in the vehicles. Apparently bad guys can’t be as evil if they carry their keys around with them. Either that or their key is some how attached to their body and you have to get it from them by taking their arm off with a laser or something. I think the whole handcuffing yourself to the briefcase is really nifty. Unless of course you lose the key and then you’ll be potentially screwed. Or if someone really wants the briefcase you have to go through all the trouble of unlocking it and then handcuffing their arm to the suitcase.
We grabbed the nearest vehicle which was stereotypically a hybrid. It was a tiny little car and had hardly any room in the back. I made Matt sit in the back while I drove; it was his punishment for blaming the whole incident on me. Besides Matt’s radio selection is usually pretty bad. When it comes to radio selection, Matt scores at 2 out of 10.
The next question we had to ask ourselves was how we were going to find Tyler Harkins with so little time on our hands. So first we traveled to the location of Tyler’s birth, Toledo, Ohio.
Well, it really didn’t help us much because no one seemed to know where Tyler Harkins was or even who he was! I guess Tyler didn’t spend much of his time in Toledo.
Our next destination was San Francisco. We really had no reason for going to San Francisco but I wanted to buy a fake Rolex and Matt wanted to see the gay pride parade, I mean Fisherman’s Warf. We saw the sites and even went to Alcatraz but Tyler was no where to be found! We began to get desperate in our search and we were worried Mrs. Huchmala would get to him before we did. I tried to remember all I knew about Tyler but everything I knew about him seemed worthless, senseless knowledge.
Then we saw Caroline Boothe walking down the street with her ugg boots on. “Caroline you have to help us we’re looking for Tyler Harkins!” She flatly refused our request for help and kept walking. We were desperate and it called for desperate measures. “Caroline, Tyler has a zit and he needs it popped!” She stopped dead in her tracks. No really, she stopped walking and was dead. I suppose it was too much excitement for her to handle at one time. Since Matt and I were such good people we did what any respectable person would do; we drove off as fast as we could. If you’re found at the scene of someone’s death your always a suspect. I suppose we were a tad bit involved with her death but we had bigger fish to fry, we had to find Tyler!
We were hungry and out of gas, our hybrid had finally failed us and we were forced to walk through Utah. It was a long slow journey fraught with peril. There were guys in suits riding bikes everywhere. And
There’s a knock at my door I’ll be right back…
Well it appears my earlier argument between the two guards with British accents was actually plagiarism at its finest! Apparently some dufus by the name of William Shakespeare wrote that argument before me. I’m in violation of copyright law. I guess they don’t have the FBI warning for nothing!
There are some goons at my door with black suits on with black neck ties and their leader is Tom Hanks. Well he can catch me if can, either that or I’ll kick him all the way back to Alabama. They’ve threatened me with a 25,000 dollar fine for copyrighting an argument. William who? I’m pretty sure these guys have never really heard of him either.
Well, I better jump out of this window before they get me! Luckily I’m only in a 26 story building and even luckier I’m on the 29th floor! They’ll never get me now! We’ll continue this later when I straighten up this whole copyright nonsense.
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