The curious giraffe wandered into the grasslands, disregarding his mother’s warning.
“It is unsafe for giraffes to travel alone in those parts,” she said, “because there are lions hiding in the grasses.”
“They may say they have free ice cream, but they rarely do.”
This was because only a few people knew the terrible secret. The free ice cream was actually sorbet.
“Damn this sugared hell,” exclaimed these people.
“It tastes like poop,” agreed the youngest.
The necessity of consuming something to counter the unpleasant flavor became urgent.
He grabbed the nearest thing he could find, a glass of beer, and chugged it. The world began to spin.
He stumbled to his car. The edges of his vision seemed to bulge and pucker as the dizziness set in.
“Dude, where’s my car?” I thought it was this one, but it’s a Mystique, not a Contour!
I then saw my car speeding off into the distance being driven by a large man resembling Andre the Giant.
There was only one word for such a moment:
But nothing is truly inconceivable, not when humans possess the power of the POSITIVE THINKING.
This was his final thought as he slowly drifted into the everlasting sleep that is DEATH.
These stories are collected from two evenings of collective story-telling at the theme house. Authors are credited in the tags.