I bought this little metal box at a swap meet last weekend. It was a little rusty at the edges and had a couple of fair size dents in it, but that's not what concerned me. Oh no! I noticed that it was locked and there was no key.
A morbidly obese man with a well-worn "Jews For Jesus" t-shirt and urine soaked sweat pants told me that he found it while digging through the garbage can of an ancient Chinese "Master of the Mystic Arts". He then proceeded to pick his nose with a plastic fork for several moments until I finally just walked away...
So, I took my new purchase and started toward the parking lot, but not before being flashed by a most gruesome elderly woman working at the "dream catcher/plumbing supply" table.
The drive home seemed to take forever! I'm not sure whether it was the anticipation or the fact that my car only tops out at 8mph...
Anyway, when I finally got home, I noticed that the box had started emitting a strong sulfur-like odor. I thought to myself, "Wouldn't you know it?!! Everything I buy starts smelling like brimstone!!! Curse my luck!".
Then, after changing into a loin cloth and suspenders I started trying to jimmy the lock open with a screw driver. Then a pocket knife. Then a paper clip. Then a crow bar. Then a hand gun. Then a small charge grenade. Nothing was working!!!
Frustrated, I walked outside and saw a sharp dressed man in a crimson cape with a rather dapper goatee catching small birds on fire with just the snap of his fingers.
When he saw me, he smiled and said, "Good day Benjamin! I have something you might want.". Then, he held up a rather elaborate brass key. "All you have to do...", he began, "is sign on the dotted line and this could be yours...".
While he was droning on, it occurred to me that that key may just fit my stinky little metal box! So I reached for the key, but he shoved the pen and paper toward me. This annoyed me, so I head butted him in the teeth, breaking off one of his pronounced incisors and once he collapsed from the pain I stepped on his groin. He coughed-up little chunks of what I assume to be testicle as I took the key and went back in the house.
I sat down on a bean bag and jabbed the key mercilessly into the lock. Success was mine!!!
As I slowly opened the top of the box, I peered inside.
To my astonishment, looking back at me were two little eyes. "How weird...", I thought, "maybe it was a puppy?".
Instinctively, I threw the box to the ground and began stomping it like some sort of berserker!!!
It was then that I heard it, the little voice from inside the box that pleaded, "Would ya stop stompin' me ya giant butt-monkey?!!".
Puzzled, I ceased my furious attack and took a step back. Just then, a miniature man stepped out of the partially crushed box. He was well groomed, in a somewhat dated, powder blue leisure suit, and wearing a rather dashing top hat. He informed me that his name was Hat-Headed Terrence and that he could offer me three wishes.
This was great! I could wish for so many things!!! World peace! Food to feed the masses! Free health care! More money than I could spend! A pair of crushed velvet pajamas! A new car! A huge house! Significantly larger genitalia... Anything I wanted.
After several moments of pondering, I decided what must be done!!!
I walked out of the room for a few seconds then came back in with a pencil sharpened as sharp as sharp could be.
Hat-Headed Terence asked if I was planning to writing a list of things I'd like to wish for, but instead I drove the tip of the pencil through his tiny chest and ate his little corpse between two slices of whole wheat toast.
Afterwards I patted my belly and smiled knowing that I had, in fact, gotten my wish. A sandwich made from a miniature man,... with spicy brown mustard!!! Delightful...
So, until next I blog, remember this. I'm Ben Dennis, and I'd like you much better if you were too...
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