“How did these trees get so twisted?” asked Melinda, reporter for NATURE magazine.
“Mother Nature danced and drank all night at the Ball of the Gods last March.” Babs whispered, in a smelly corner booth.
“Well, as it turned out.” Babs slurred, “Mudder (snort snort) went over to Leo’s to have a nightcap,” Babs looked around and took another gulp of her Vodka Martini, “and one thing led to another (snort, hiccup, snort). She didn’t come home ‘till the next day – which was the annual SPRING SOLSTACE PLANTING DAY.”
“OH! Oh.” Melinda said just as Lightning exploded Babs’ house.
4 black labs took off likety split headed for the red dome.
Each year, the Marsh families had a race and whoever’s dog came in last, had to buy the beer for the next years race. Roly’s owner had won 4 years straight. Fred was tired of buying the beer and really wanted the first prize this year a Brand New Neon Yellow Tennis Ball for his dog, Willie.
Folks said it was pretty low down what he did to win though, he tied his girlfriends foo-foo dog that was in heat, under the dome.
Miles shouted “5 second rule!” as the gates of hell opened and the seagulls swooped toward the dome of deliciousness.
Every crab scurried over the pebbles, pinchers clicking as they lifted themselves up and over rocks. Going sideways slowed the criters, but with treats like rocky road ice cream and sand sprinkles, everyone was doing double time.
Grandpa smiled at the vision of chaos unfolding before him. He paid the vendor and gave the cone to Max.
As he reached Max, his shoestrings tangled, the desert on the dessert began again.