Tragically Fine

            The following is an autobiographical story of someone else’s life that I wrote, loosely based on a really tight story:

             Kraig was trapped between bars and a restroom, not able to decide which bar to go to. He didn’t realize that the bars weren’t actually bars, but were long metal bars entrapping him. ENTRAPPPPPPPING. Sorry, Caps Lock was on for a second there. Some people call that literary Tourette’s Syndrome. Going back a few days, his motorbicycle took him to the border, and not the singular version of the bookstore kind of border. A large Polynesian man with a tattoo of a handlebar moustache told him to “slow down buckaroo, eh.” Which in English means, “Wir kaufen keine Schnürsenkel aus kleinen asiatischen Mädchen!” So even when translated Kraig didn’t know what it meant. The Polynesian man asked sir Kraig if he had any weaponry besides his “guns” because he was inherently sick of guys flexing and making a poor joke about their biceps being WMDs. Kraig tried making the joke with his calves just to mix things up a bit, but ended up punching the border polyofficer in the throat. This did not make that man a very happy man. He was less than happy. Dare I say, he was unhappy. Mr. Polynesia’s eyes grew large, filled with magma and started leaking streams of fire. He then enacted his greatest skill of all, Polyamnesia! Causing Kraig to instantly lose consciousness and coincidentally $50 out of his wallet as well. The difference between regular amnesia and polyamnesia lies solely in the resulting side effects. With amnesia there is the possibility of gaining back all of your memory at a certain point. With the latter, you will never be able to remember the capitol of Arkansas or the amount of water a fish can drink before getting tired of drinking water.

             And this my readers (and in small parts of Guam my listeners), is where Kraig woke up in a cell. Next to the ribosomes and endoplasmic reticulum. These were the thug-names of his cell mates. Ribosomes wore a bone through his nose and had plated his entire right leg with copper. He would also constantly punch people while saying “check mate!” Endoplasmic Reticulum was a little thinner, and was generally regarded as being “ocassionally mopey” and owning at medium leveled Sudoku puzzles. This would be Kraig’s life for the next three weeks. He would say this to his cell mates if any of them could count that high.

To be continued:

Destitutely,

                                  Kyle