Jaabar


Imagine something.

Your name is no longer {insert your name here}.You are now Jaabar, world-renowned sock tester. Now, think of a number between 1 and 42.

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If your number was 17, then that means you will have good luck. In what? In sock testing, of course. That could mean that you get to try on Ralph Lauren socks instead of Kmart generic brand "socks" that have undoubtedly been worn on numerous occasions by numerous individuals, none of which smell entirely clean and all of which wash themselves in dirt.

Now then. Back to your imagination. One day at the job, you have spent 6 hours trying on socks. Remember that your shoe size is 32 and incidentally the only shoe that fits you is a clown shoe. Anyway, your boss Larry asks you to try on a little girl's sock. Naturally, you agree with a smile on your face. Too bad little girls sizes are generally 1!!! It breaks, and causes spazmotic Larry to begin his convulsion sequence.

As this is happening, old man Joe is trying out a shoe and he begins to dance and sing (this has no connection with Larry's convulsions, just a coincidence). Coincidentally, Larry's convulsions acutely mimic the mating dance of the aliens in Mexico (not the illegal aliens, the extra terrestrial aliens that walk the streets and are generally the size of skyscrapers and have a million or so legs and one huge eyball). (Remember, this is an imagination, NOT REALITY!!!) And while he was being apprehended by "big mama" as the Mexicans called her, he got violated in all the ways you never even knew, or wanted to know, was possible.

In the meantime of the sock explosion of '99 (as it came to be known) you met a nice person by the name of Heather Harvey. You came to understand her; to look past her countless bleeding blisters on her face, or her skin that was whiter than sugar, or her teeth, greener than seaweed (in fact some people believe that it IS seaweed). But then you realized that she was the ugliest girl in the world, so you chucked her off a cliff (in the act of intercourse, of all times) and started to date all the models on the Sports Illustrated calender (remember, this is an IMAGINATION, NOT REALITY!). Subsequently you went to the nearest illegal emu farm (just outside Houston city limits) and made one unbeliveably illegal purchase!!! When you carried the "goods" back inside, there were 18 police dogs licking their chops and ready to let you meet your maker. Luckily you had bought 6 Emus, and with your quick wit reasoned that you could divide each emu up into 3 parts and appease each dog. In a mad frenzy, you missed the emus and accidentally chopped your 4th toe into 18 equal pieces. This left your pinkey toe rather lonely and he decided to commit suicide. This set off a chain reaction until your entire foot had resigned from its years of dutiful service.

Then you had some tea. If your number was other than 17, then none of these strange incidents happened. All that happed was it began to rain Kentuckyans.

Ryan Scholz

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