and now... THE CONCLUSION TO THE CLIFFHANGER.
We're all in this big room filled with these awesome sort of beanbag chairs. I'd really like to have one, but I don't know who to ask, and maybe they'd most likely say no. Everyone is here in the room, sitting on these giant comfortable bean bags. I want one of these so bad.
To my right is the woman in red with the severed head in her lap. Next to her is Charlie, the big muscle guy who we've been dragging around for some reason. Next to him is a woman with a baby winking at me and smiling. She is wearing a t-shirt that says "I hate Elevators so much." Next to her is Mr. Happy Puppet Head with only one half of his mustache. Next to him is Howie the little girl, next to her are Bermuda and Steve, and next to them is Mr. Happy Puppet Head's ugly little dog.
Midnight Mailman: So... what's going on again?
Woman in Red: Howie the little girl and I kidnapped Mr. Happy Puppet Head in order to blackmail Bermuds and Steve into giving us the secret potion to their sunscreen. We found out that their sunscreen is not only an efficient blocker of harmful UV rays, but that it makes an excellent bar-b-que sauce. So then we kidnapped you to blackmail... not blackmail... extort! So we could extort money out of you since we're low on funds, what with all the kidnapping and not working of regular jobs.
MidnightMailman: I don't remember my PIN number right now. I have AMNESIA.
Howie: I don't really know anything about this. I just want my pet old man head back, but she won't give it to me. I hate her.
MidnightMailman: You should give her back Mr. Happy Severed Head.
Woman in Red: Yeah... I know. I guess I didn't really think this all out too well.
Little Ugly Dog: Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip! Yip!Yip! Yip! Yip!Yip! Yip! Yip!Yip! Yip! Yip!Yip! Yip! Yip!Yip! Yip! Yip!Yip! Yip! Yip!
Mr. Happy Puppet Head: Hey, let's get out of here. This party's lame.
MidnightMailman: Yeah. I hate this place.
Mr. Happy Puppet Head: Come on, Lemmy. Let's go.
we get up and start to leave, the little yippy dog following behind.
Then there're some explosions, machine guns, karate fights, casual debates over the economic crisis, and a whole lot of face punching. Drama! Excitement!
Now we're home and everything is nice. And we use the razor wire to keep the chickens away from our tomato garden. And now I can remember everything, no more memory disfunctions. I just needed to eat a good meal.
(I thought it would be a lot harder to write the ending to that then it turned out to be. It sure was really great, too.)