Something strange is happening: to Sam's head, Sam's disintegrating man hand, Sam's phone, and Sam's attitude. One would think that after spending several weeks aimlessly meandering through exurban airport frontage roads, eating at physically implausible restaurants, tallying up passes from the wildlife service, screaming, and ignoring suspicious characters in suspicious places, Mark and Sam might take a little time to investigate at least one bird deliveryman that isn't named "Bird." Not everyone hunts insignificant criminals poorly for a living, you know.
Instead, our duo take the first name off of that blank piece of paper on Mark's bed, and visions of NOT GOODNESS pluck the well-worn brainstrings in Sam's masculine head. It is only by the grace of Elrod that the duo's baseless conjectury actually hits the target. Certainly not by the grace of the Cherry Trail gigantaphone 2300 that Sam bought for her bedroom floor, which must be difficult to fit in that diminutive nook where the biologist's pinkie melts into her cheek.
Cherry Trail gigantaphone 2700 (pallid fever edition)
If you haven't already, don't forget to cast a ballot in Sammy Sam Sam Explosionwatch 2007. Details can be found in the upper righthand corner.
Posts
1 comment:
Not to mention, both those beds appear to be made entirely of concrete! No give or anything! How are they supposed to make the beast with two backs on those slabs of rock?
This is Mark Trail! Everything must have exclamations at the end! :)
Post a Comment