So anyway, there I was, surrounded by all manner of awful things. Everything from boa constrictors to crocodiles, armadillos to angler fish. I knew that everything currently staring me down was also currently licking it’s lips, assuming, of course, that they had lips to lick. How the hell was I supposed to get out of here? I’d lost my machete a couple caves back, but I still had my torch. The only problem was, I didn’t have a way off the island. What would I do once I got back out in the sunlight? They’d still be chasing me, and I’d still have nowhere to go but the water, and if the things on land didn’t follow me in, the things in the water would be sure to finish me off. I don’t want to be eaten, damnit!
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Three gashes on the side of her leg. Those three angry red marks were all that remained from the attack. I can remember it like it was yesterday. Infact, it may have been. Everything started off normal, for the most part, or as normal as things ever got. Four friends heading down to the river- to walk on trails, swim in the cool water, maybe catch a fish or see some wildlife. It was a mostly sunny day, a few clouds marred the sky, but other than that, nothing too ominous seemed to be about. There was laughing and light hearted shit talking, and the phrase “giant poon” was tossed around to describe the various members of the quadrito of people.
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To new parents: if you need six silent fucking letters in the kid's name to make it "cute" and "unique" -DON'T GIVE THAT NAME TO A PERSON. Give it to a dog or a fish. What happened to just giving your kid an easily pronounceable and easily spelled name? Or instead of Qkulahaysha, why not just Captain Space Probe Attorney at Law, or something equally fucking stupid and ridiculous?
