Alright everyone. it's time for an impromptu story with your beloved resident Forge Monkey!
So, there I was, in Canada... again. The zombies had a way of chasing you to the worst places imaginable. Canada? Of all places, REALLY? Now I'm being chased by Canadian zombies; all they do is walk around all day, doing generally Canadian things, such as smelling of warm, flat root beer. Canadians!
So anyway, my progress has been slowed a little by my prosthetic leg that I earned in 'Nam, but I was getting along fine, for the most part. Except for one disasterous problem; my supply of Cheese Puffs was running DANGEROUSLY low. I only had enough for another 3 weeks or so. I was fine on coffee, at least. I had about three thousand pounds left, so that was enough to hold me over for about a month.
So I was walking around, trying desperately to get the stench of Canadians out of my nose, when I found the most amazing thing... A SCOOTER!! :DD... sorry, got a bit excited. Anyway, as I hopped onto the scooter, it screamed in agony. I was wondering what kind of newfangled machine those dastardly Canadians had devised, so I hopped on it again. It yells a stream of cusses at me, but it was the language of the language that surprised me. It wasn't speaking the gutteral chants of Canadians at all, but it was speaking Martian!
Luckily, I'm rather fluent in Martian from my stay in 'Nam, so I initiated a conversation. It told me its name was Larry-bob, and he would grant me three wishes if I stopped stepping on him. So, I backed up, and began thinking of my wishe-THE GAME.
And that's the end of my story, children. So please kindly go to sleep now. :)
