It was stuck, and wasn't coming out very easily. He had procured a tool to help dig it out, and it was turning into a long, tedious process of digging away bit by bit. It was pretty old; had to be for it to be this stuck. But he really wanted it; it was worth all this work.
The radio was playing in the background, an obnoxious DJ barking something about winning concert tickets before playing the latest high-pitched bubblegum rock song that he had already played roughly a million and five times in the past three hours. Man. The radio sucked. But the young man chipping away didn't like silence, and his radio only picked up that station and a country station. He figured the alternative rock station was the lesser of two evils.
Deciding to take a break from his work, the young man walked over to the fridge and grabbed a gallon jug of milk. Not soy milk, mind you, or that watered down skim bull crap. Hell, this wasn't even whole milk. No sir. This here was the good stuff. Half and half.
He grabbed himself a nice tall glass and filled it all the way up. Right to the top. Grasping the glass in both hands as if it were the Holy Grail itself, he took a long, generous gulp of the rich, creamy milk. Oh yes. That was the good stuff. And as soon as he finished working, it would go great with great big piece of-
His train of thought collided with a jumbo jet as several men came crashing through the windows of his house. All of them were in full on crazy-ass SWAT dress, each holding a semi-automatic with a laster sight pointed at various parts of his body.
Damn. Guess those old brownies were gonna have to wait.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
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