Johnson was cruising through liberia one day, when he happened to come across a young man by the name of general Good times. Good Times snorted, spit out some tobacco, and inquired about the time. At this, Johnson became enraged and shout, with spite
"You'll get it over my dead body."
General Good Times saw Johnson going for his gun, and quickly drew his own. The fire fight commenced for several years, and raged across all continents. Much like the olympic torch, people would wait for it to pass by them.
Still, even with anticipation, fear, regret, and pain that was caused by this battle; no bird lifted a wing. They feared that if they took to the air they would be slaughtered, and their eggs would be harvested (The last thing we needed was to have these two great warriors to start egging each other. All would have been lost.). Then, several years after the fight had begun and both warriors had grown long beards that would drag across the ground like an anchor in a coral reef, the battle ended.
Both warriors shook hands. Good times asked for a cigarette, and Johnson granted him one telling him it was 3:45 pm. Then both warriors went home.
But, even though they were safe at home in their beds with their wives and mistresses, things were not well. For a warrior is a warrior, and they long for the thrill of battle when it is taken from them. And this is what happened to these two warriors. It ate them alive for many years. So many years that they had time shave off their beards, and grow new ones (which they didn't do, but they had time for it. Which means they each have beards twice as long as did was when the battle ended.). Then, one day, Good times lit his beard on fire whilst taking a drag from his cigarette. Some smouldering ash fell from the burning cigarette, and rested itself in the busom of his beard. Once the fire started, there was no stopping it. Good times died, and his wife ran off with his brother Mark. Johnson, upon hearing this, drove himself into dispair, and ultimately murdered himself by challenging himslef to a duel.
This was a very conventional duel. Ten paces then turn. Johnson took three paces, spun around, and shot himself dead.
The moral of the story is: smoking kills. not only you, but the ones you love.
― ((Censored)) ((Censored)), Saturday, 21 January 2006 12:13 (nineteen years ago)
it was several years pior to that fateful drag. It was during his exciting, and action packed battle with Johnson. Karma was being lazy so it took a while for it to come around and get Good Times. Unfortunatly, Karma dropped a bomb, and got Johnson too.
― ((Censored)) ((Censored)), Monday, 23 January 2006 01:59 (nineteen years ago)
That is precisely why I smoke, btw. I caught a particularly bad case of kippers in Canada once and despite the best efforts of the Royal Canadian Mounted Nurses, I couldn't shake it. By pure chance, I happened to be smoking a hookah with the Khan of Samarkand (universally known as Sam R. Khan to his friends) several weeks later and I noticed an improvement and I've been smoking that hookah (which Sam kindly gave me as a present) ever since. Luckily I managed to lure some of the RCMNs to join my retinue and they carry it for me on an elaborate litter when I'm out for a stroll or abroad.
― M. White (Miguelito), Monday, 23 January 2006 15:30 (nineteen years ago)
one month passes...