Britney Spears wears another bikini, God promises to look into it
On the second day the creature returned. The villagers laid Whoppers and Frappucinos along the sand dunes hoping to pacify the beast. I looked down at my gun and wondered if mere bullets would be enough to preserve my hide. Then I heard its call:
Warm urine trickled down my leg as I ran to my Jeep like a man possessed. Would I be safe behind it’s metal frame? Or would the creature smell the Snickers bar tucked away in the glove box?
I looked down again at my gun then over my shoulder at the beast. I angrily threw the feeble sidearm into the bushes and hurried my pace. Suddenly, the air smelled of taco meat. The last thing I recalled was blackness and a sensation not unlike a bean-bag chair heated in an oven…