the story goes something like this.
okay, you caught me. i actually don’t know how the story goes. not really. the only part i know for sure is the punch line. and doesn’t starting with the punch line guarantee a lame story?
but i’m doin’ it. i’m ruining the story. and you can’t stop me. on your mark. get set.
here’s the punch line.
[said in the whiny voice of a young blonde girl with amazingly thick-lensed glasses.]
“i can’t go as fast as a barracuda running.”
if i thought i had a worldwide readership, i would make this some kind of an assignment or challenge. you know, “i’ve told you the ending; now you tell me the story that goes with it.” you have all the details you need. the story’s about a young blonde girl with impossibly thick glasses, and the story ends with her saying, “i can’t go as fast as a barracuda running.” well, perhaps the story ends with laughter and mocking by those who just heard her misspeak. but you get the gist. also, the story doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with her glasses or their coke-bottle-bottomed nature.
should i offer a prize for the best story? would that entice you, my loyal followers? how many of you out there are not my mother and sibling(s) and were therefore not there to witness the actual event?
whoever you are. i’ll give you some kind of cool prize if you write the best story. promise.
and if this idea falls flat, then i will take it upon myself to write three versions of the story, and it will be up to my audience to figure out which one is true. or as close to true as my foggy memory can get me.