The old giant gives his trusty paddle to his tiny bride and steps back. She stares at him. He rubs his chin with his enormous hands waiting for a reply. She just stares. He speaks, "I'm done playing ping pong." No response. Wide-eyed silence. The giant tries again, "I'm done for good. It's over." She shifts slightly in her fur coat. She's spent years buying herself nice things. Nicer than the fur even. All in attempt to garner the attention of her humongous husband. He always chose ping pong. A strange obsession, but obsession nonetheless. Years worth of evenings were spent in separate rooms. Until now.
Now, the giant is ready to change.
2 comments:
Maybe he's not a giant at all. Maybe his bride is just teensy. Maybe she's a teeny, tiny, wee little bride with the stole of a gerbil. You mean to tell me there is a oversize ping-pong paddle producing plant out there producing such colossal paddles just for our amusement? I can't buy it, my friend.
chris, you make an excellent point and i respect your thought-out hypothesis. It's obvious, however, that you clearly have not been to Denmark. Those Danes, man...... they're HUUUUUUUUGE.
pps: stole of a gerbil......brilliant stuff, man.
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