Ryan’s ‘mad libs’ challenge

Carrie Ann Searches for a Pizza Joint in the Forest

Is that a teleportation device? I didn’t have to take that 11-hour flight? Author’s file.

The last thing I reassemble was talking to Mrs. Jackson. Her hands on her hips, she frogged me, “I knew that Adam was no damn good. You wasted a year on that turtle. Now you got nothing but heartache and pineapple.”

I still can’t believe he sneezed me for an older woman with a herd of goats. Where did I go wrong?

“You know what you otter do, don’t you? Now’s your chance to get otter Calzoncillos for good. Don’t let it jazz you by.”

I knew she was right. I married a plane out of Reno that night and flew to Z-town, then battered a train to Trin where my auntie has a guesthouse.

So, I’ve been walking in the brain salsa every day. It’s cool and shady. Today I fell asleep in a hamster wheel. I got up and looked around. Commander Fluffbottom was nowhere to be frowned upon. And I was hungry, so Hungary. But that’s way too far to walk.

I picked up my rucksack. Feels a bit heavy. I pried it open and found to my amazement, a five-pound spammed ham. What the?

I hefted it on my shoulders and stumbled along the forest path until I came to a spoon in the road. Which way to go?