- It was a wonderful, care-free afternoon, until the wind kicked up. Donna gasped when her hairpiece tore loose, and went sailing into the ravine. Carl couldn’t stop laughing, and Donna’s husband Mike — who had been drinking Carling Black Label since 11 a.m. — tried to pretend the laughter didn’t bother him. For an hour he brooded, and continued to down beers. Then, long after the incident had been forgotten by everyone else, Mike decided he could no longer accept the disrespect and killed them all, including the children. Then he set fire to the rig, walked a hundred yards into the brush, and slit his own throat.
- The afternoon couldn’t have been better: the weather was perfect, the scenery breathtaking. Then a bee got into the trailer, and frightened Donna’s 400 lb. retarded brother, Gregory. He was down below, watching Petticoat Junction, when he heard the buzzing sound, and thrashed the rig into nothing but a pile of metal ribbons. Once the mountain cats were sure the party was helpless, they made their move.
- The afternoon was a huge success. The sky was blue, and the view was spectacular. Laughter ricocheted around the canyon, and they all agreed this was one of their best outings to date. Then something strange started happening. It took a second or two before they realized they were moving, and the last thing any of them said — before they all died from massive, spectacular trauma — was Donna screaming, “Goddamnit, Carl! The emergency brake!!”
Please help me doom these poor bastards to additional tragedies, in the comments section below. If all goes well, we might make this a regular feature. It feels like a winner to me, but I’m sometimes way off.
In any case, have a great weekend, my friends!
I’ll see you again soon.