When I came up with this (not completely original) idea at about 12:31am Thursday morning, I had NO idea how far it would go. We ended up with nearly 145 entries to this story of ours. And the genius piece of prose that you guys authored? Is fricking HIGHLARIOUS.
The full story is below.
By the way, after you’re done reading I’ve got two quick questions for you:
1) What’d you think of your tale?
2) More importantly, should we do it again?
Okay, I’ll shut up now and let you have what you came here for. Ladies and gentlemen, I now bring you…
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THE TALE OF THE FOAMY
It came out all foamy so I told the doctor because that rabid dog bit off my big right toe. He inspected it and frowned and he said, ?I?m sorry but that must be examined by a renowned Swedish acupuncturist whose sister is a famous belly dancer and fortune teller.?
Meanwhile, in Italy, a cowboy was with said belly dancer enjoying margaritas and Ritz crackers in line at the Uffizi. A stranger walked up to them and said, ?Why don?t you both bellydance for me?? The gorgeous bellydancer said, ?Where is my danged horse??
When suddenly, one of them remembers to buy some broccoli at the local gas station from a toothless man named Pietro Estabula, who was known mostly for his extremely pungent banana souffl?, topped with an eastern European dream of freedom. The broccoli was delectable and smelled slightly like goat cheese during a heatwave in Phoenix.
Seven clerics worshipping big toes decided to get a pedicure when they happened upon the dilapidated shrine to OJ Simpson where the REAL glove was plotting its next attack on the hallowed halls of Montezuma. Thankfully for Kaopectate, its attack with the psychic Dionne Warwick was foiled by the cowboy. ?Cuz that?s what friends?re for,? she said in her sultry anorak.
After the clerics lost their most prized Jamaican bobsled they wept and peed their pants in anticipation of the next overpriced silk Armani overall shorts and bright fuscia banana-hammocks which came with an iPod connector.
The belly dancer returned, carrying tiny, silver metallic finger cymbals and a bottle of moonshine made from the finest Hungarian beetles. The bobsled, it seems, was made from ocean driftwood but smelled of deep Cambodian bamboo paste that sealed it?s doom from the moment it dropped anchor at Alpha Centauri which was a boat owned by the sea captain Morpheus and his wife Betty, the mysterious lady from the song ?Little Red Corvette.? That slut never could manage to stay drug-free for more than the time it took Morpheus to eat a bacon Hungarian beetle (those were the Italian cheeseburgers) while anchoring in the Bay of Biscayne harbor. A small restaurant near Alpha Moonbeam in the Southwest quadrant was often what Betty saw before she binged on spicy lemon yogurt.
Meanwhile the pirate, Oops -? yes, his name was ?Oops the Unstable? — they knew him on the female impersonator circuit. Oops rarely showed the softer side of Sears. Sears [was] his stage name that he adopted when performing at a cowgirl ?appliance? party where he employed his patented hook maneuver.
Then the real McCoy showed up, bearing spicy lemon yogurt and monkeys along with Burmese pygmy sloths and some lovely side dishes, including rice pilaf and potatoes. ?By the beard of Zeus,? he exclaimed loudly before plunging into the shimmering pool of bull?s milk, before realizing he was having a nightmare about a man in an electric blue silk dress playing a tune on bagpipes.
?It was a kilt damnit,? he exclaimed in Scottish dialect which masked his Tahitian roots. Clearing his throat, he said:
?I do believe I?m late,
For a very important date,
That simply cannot wait,
Or my heart will palpitate.
Did anyone bring the bait?
Yes, so let?s freaking celebrate!?
And with that the party disappeared, leaving behind some nachos. [They] eagerly danced on the deck while the bugler signaled the five female transcendental divorce mediators (donkey trainers) to load up [and] assist Morpheus and Betty so she could save the horse. The horse with no name, [and] a habit of passing something that came out foamy.
And it has ever since been a big, unexplained mystery
Five things I should never have worn:
