A Story of How Awareness is Tantamount to Security Or A Treatise on how Garrett Stinks
Once upon a time… Is an awful way to start a story.
It was a nice summer day. I had an ice cream cone in my hand, birds were chirping. All in all, it was a stereotypically nice summer day
I was walking down the street, minding my own business, until a man walked out in front of me. He was an elephant of a man. He was eight feet tall and about as wide. He was shaped like a box. Square man was dressed like a biker, but he didn’t have the body type to pull it off. What a shame. He smelled like what happens when a bizarre cross between feet and cheese went on to train a disciple that surpassed it in every way, and then the resulting kung-fu fight between master and student resulted in property damage, including the man’s shower, so he just decided to not shower for eight days. The name Marlee was tattooed on his arm.
“So you think you’re tough, huh?” he said gruffly.
“No.” I said continuing to eat my ice cream. I turned around avoiding the obviously deluded man.
“Yeah, walk away before things get ugly. That’s what you get for walking through Garrett Strother’s turf” He said derisively
Not being one to take an offense to my pride, I turned to face the hulking brute.
“Looks like we’re about to have a rumble.” Garrett said as he whistled for his goons. The first to arrive was a tall, lanky man dressed in a historically accurate Alexander hamilton costume. He began waving a Scottish flag. Following him was a man wearing a watermelon themed T-shirt, holding a trumpet menacingly. “ Meet the rest of the Lunch Table Gang.”
Needless to say, I could have dispatched my aggressors easily, but I found no need for violence. So I walked up to Garrett, looked him in the eye and said:
“Your last foray into filmmaking left a lot to be desired. Your execution was rather heavy-handed and could have used another round of of review and editing.”
You could audibly hear the man’s heart breaking, as he curled in the fetal position. His goons ran off, not wanting to meet the same fate. I had won.
The moral of the story is: Always watch your ice cream cone, those dang chirping birds stole mine.