Today I got up and started running on my broken ankle. The pain was beyond belief, but I knew that it would make me stronger and wiser one day. I didn't give up. I refused to quit.
I passed tiny castles and even a couple of orphanages. Then I passed a school for chimps. That one was my favourite because it reminded me of my youth when I used to be a chimp.
Now I'm a strong ape with a broad chest and an expressive face.
After a few hours I decided that I would retire to a nearby Swiss Chalet and catch up on some reading. I had my Bible in my back pocket. I took it out and sat myself in a booth by the window.
A waiter comes over.
"Hi!" He exclaims.
"Hello buddy!" I reply.
"Would you like some ice?" He asks.
"Well your ankle is the size of a casserole. And it's getting blood all over the floor."
"Ooh, right. Um- ya know what- YAH!!!!!! THAT'S exactly what I need for my ankle. I NEED IT RIGHT NOW!!!!!"
"Your wish is my command," he mutters like a humble priest. He turns on the heel of his boot and walks away.
I turn my attention to my Bible. I flip to my favourite section, the part where Jesus is forced to work in a coal mine for 18 days with no water. The bravery of the man is beyond my imagination.
"Wow, just wow," I say aloud. "OK!! REALLY!"
My waiter suddenly returns at my side. "Hey sire, here is your ice." He proceeds to empty a bucket full of ice cubes onto my table. It gets over everything! My Bible is wet!
"What's the meaning of this, Jack?!"
The man looks at me, slightly shocked. His mouth forms a PERFECT CIRCLE. "What ever are you talking about? Did you change your mind about the ice, sire?"
"No I didn't change my mind about the ice," I snap. "But I'll say that I'm not so keen on having it given to me in such a- DISGUSTING manner!"
"Oh sire, this is not a personal attack on you-know-who!"
I make a funny face and open my eyes wide. I put my hands up in the air and flutter them around. "The evidence laid before me kinda contradicts that, doesn't it Jack?!"
"How about we move things along and get your order taken!" He says, taking a notepad and pen from his back pocket. "Chicken, sire?"
"Alright, fine." I agree, placing a cigar between my teeth. "Give me the fattest Hen you got back there."
"Of course sire. Sit back and relax for now! Rest your eyes if you'd like." Once again he spins on his heel and leaves. I strike a match against my course ass. It begins to burn softly.
I light up my chubby cigar and puff on it slowly.
"AH!" I sigh. "If not for this frigid ice and broken ankle, I would really be having a heavenly evening."
2 hours and 60 pages of the Bible later, my waiter finally returns with a modestly plump Hen placed atop a shiny tray.
"Supper is SERVED!" Announces the waiter. "Please, dig in."
"This is the biggest bird you had, eh?"
"Sire, it really is."
The waiter turns to leave.
"Won't you care to join me?" I ask. "I'd love some company."
"Of course sire." The waiter says lovingly as he takes a seat across from me. We look deep into each others eyeballs and giggle. We begin to chew.