WHOO-HOO!
I won my division in Frank's permalink constest.
[insert rhythmless white-boy happy-dance here]
I got lucky & found my muse on that entry. My first thoughts had been about soap & hard work as hippie repellants - glad I didn't go that way. While lying awake that night, though, I started started thinking about how angry hippies make me feel, and once I got the Popeye angle, the rest came pretty easy. The hard part was keeping it under 200 words. I had to shave it down from 217, but I think it came out better for the effort.
The question was: You are on your way somewhere, but a group of hippies incoherently protesting something blocks your way. In 200 words or less, what is the best way to handle this situation?
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I actually encountered this situation once. All I wanted to do was cross the street, but the road was jammed with retarded lefties blathering gibberish like, “Free Mumia For Oil”, “No Blood For Peace”, and “Bush Lied, Babies Died, I’ll Have Tofu On The Side”, or something like that.
I suppressed my rage until I saw the “Bush = Puppy Blender” sign, then something inside me snapped. “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more!” I cried, reaching over to a nearby organic foods vending cart, grabbing a handful of spinach, and shoving it down my throat.
Somewhere nearby, a Phish-smelling band inexplicably started playing a modified hornpipe, as animated battleship tattoos magically appeared on my biceps and started firing live shells into the fetid assembly. I waded through the crowd, my bulgy forearms windmilling madly as the Phish-smellers segued into a quick-tempo Yankee Doodle. Filthy hippies flew in all directions, landing in comical pretzel-piles, with their stupid-slogan signs jammed in previously functional orifices.
Covered in patchouli-befouled blood, I reached the other side and burst into song:
“I’m strong to the finish
(here’s a buck for your spinach)
Don’t F*** with the sailor man!”
TOOT! TOOT!
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A big thanks to all who voted, and an honorable mention to Mark for referencing insulting Frank's grammar as a one-way ticket to an early grave. I would've picked that one in the absense of self-interest.
The final round starts Monday, and it's gonna be a lot tougher. I'll have to leave a wake-up call for my muse.
posted by Harvey at 8:30:07 PM permalink HOME
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