Once upon a toasty brown marshmellow there was a young gecko named
Sticky-Foot Joe. He didn't like climbing on walls all of the time.
Fortunately he didn't have to be concerned about it, because just as he
was thinking how great it would be to walk on two legs and wear a hat,
he was smashed by an opening door. The lesson there is if you want to
think about walking on two legs and wearing hats, do it away from doors.

But I digress. The door in question was being opened by Larry, a man
with a small self esteem and a very large chin. And when I say a big
chin, I don't mean any old big chin, I'm talking HUGE. I mean, this
guy's chin was so big, he could take out ad space on it! It was even
bigger than Jay Leno's. But Larry didn't point out hillarious misprints
in newspapers, or make fun of his band leader, or... I lost my train of
thought. Where was I? Oh yeah! Larry got hit by lightning.

HAHAHAHAHAHA oh sorry. I wasn't making fun of him getting hit by lightning.
I was laughing at something else. Something else getting hit by lightning.

Anyhoo, Larry once met on a camping trip some old guy with a long grey
beard named Toothless Bill. A lot of people wouldn't be proud of a name
like "Toothless Bill," but Toothless Bill was. He was a good old fashioned
old west prospector. Even though the forest he lived in didn't have
any gold, and never did. Mostly just trees, outhouses and Magic Elves.
Not the nice Magic Elves you think of, like the ones in the cookie
commercials. Mean nasty ones with eye patches and tatoos. The kind
that'll kill ya just for the lint in your pockets. They take the lint and
add it to their giant lint ball, which they plan to someday drop on southern
Chicago and destroy most of the buildings just to see the looks on their
faces. Don't worry, though, it'll be a while before it's big enough.
It's only about two feet tall, and they've been working on it for six
and a half million years. Granted for a while in the beginning there
pocket lint wasn't even invented, but...

I got off track there. Where was I? Oh yeah! Toothless Bill. He talked
in that cheesy old accent. You know, not enough people say "tarnation"
anymore. It's a perfectly good word, even used incorrectly. Like
"That sure is a tarnation car. I think it's all that bird poo." I got
off subject again. I always do that. Anyhoo, one day, Toothless Bill
thought he found gold. Actually, it was a peice of gold foil from a
Rolo. But how was he supposed to know that? He dug and dug in the spot he
found the "gold." He dug so deep he uprooted a nearby tree and it fell
on top of him.

The moral of all this rambling? If you want to go on living, don't be in one
of my stories.