The Cannibals of Virginia Beach

By: Cameron Polson

This is just a stupid story that books by Louis Sachar that I read several years ago gave me the ideas for.
Taken from explorer Don Dashly's diary written in 1998:
Ah, the crisp mornings airs smelled beautiful as I lay on the beach towel watching babes go by. Several of them where knocked down my waves that were created by El Nino. They got up sputtering salt. I had moved from my house in Liverpool, England to come & live in a house right on the beach. The winds from hurricanes had blown over all the houses next to me and my small beach house hadn't been damaged a bit. It had, however gotten a tiny dent from where a VW beetle had been thrown into it by the strong winds.
So I was really enjoying myself until I heard people screaming. I turned around to see half-naked Indian like people throughing spears into the hearts of many. It was pretty disgusting. Seeing the gore was bad, but the Indian's buttocks are what I'm talking about.
One of them walked over to me a sputtered out some kind of Native language.
I figured he was saying swear words at me in his own language for me to get up.
"My Goodness, old chap,"I muttered to him,"Someone really needs a nap."
*
Later on I sat by the cooking pot on the pier ready for theses cannibals to cut out my intestines and eat me. (Perhaps alive? Anyway it doen't matter for I'll end up dead either way. Join me will you? No? All right, then) Okay well my hands getting tired from writers cramp now and I don't want to have this pain in my wrist for the rest of my life, even though I'll be dead in five minutes but I'm stopping now to await being either the main course or the munchie. Who knows? Anyway, farewell.---Don L. Dashly
The End