They said that building a bridge is more than just tossing planks at an open gap and hoping that the pieces stick to those metal pipe thingys that we stretched across the water.
But I persisted. Most of the boards landed in the water, but some of them stuck in flimsy, horizontal positions. Good enough for me.
“A bridge without gaps is no kind of bridge at all,” I said. And then, “Lincoln didn’t build the Lincoln Tunnel by following the rules.”
“I don’t think that anything you just said is true,” said one of the workers.
“Hey, slow down!” said another worker.
“I’ll slow you down!” I shouted. “How does a dead stop sound?”
I continued to heave planks at the large gap where the bridge was supposed to be.
“I’m a big manly man,” I said. “I’m a manly man with a big, manly appetite.”
When there were no more planks to be thrown, I declared the bridge finished and then pulled out a gun and made the workers drive me to a Wendy’s. There, I proceeded to order by stretching my lips around the entire drive-thru speaker while the workers watched in horror. I stretched it completely around, like how a person secures himself inside a kayak.
“Welcome to Wendy’s.”
With my mouth stretched around the speaker, I ordered.
“HHHHAAAAAA HYESSSS! HI’D LHIKE HUH HORDER HUV HEVERYTHING HYOU HAVE!”
“Sir?”
I ordered again and again until they got it right. I ate everything they had in the Wendy’s and later, when I was asleep in the bed of the pickup truck, I dreamed about driving the pickup through the Wendy’s and running over all of the people so I could eat their food. But a part of me began to argue against it.
“The booths are too narrow,” I thought. “The truck won’t fit!”
I dreamed about it again and this time, I was in a tiny, little fire engine, like something a child might ride in for a quarter. And boy, was it fast.
“That’s much better,” I thought.
The next day, I was fired.
“Awwwwwwwww!” I said. ”Awwwwwwwwww!”
THE END.
