Here is a rather humorous story that I made.......
Golden rays of sunshine broke through the ranks of clouds overhead in Paris. The day seemed rather jubilant: birds flew around chirping loudly, cats meowed on the streets, people drank cappuccinos at a nearby café: Le Marche Du Lait.
Wait. Did I forget something? I have the feeling that I did. Oh yeah.
The Eiffel Tower was about to fall on the café.
Literally.
There it seemed to hang, three meters from the roof, as time froze.
Play.
Men, Women, and rats ran, screaming (and squeaking) in terror. The birds’ chirps changes to warning cries. The cats’ meows turned to howls of pain.
And amongst this terror stood a huge, enormous, bulbous……
Boulder.
Hang on a second. That doesn’t make sense. How in the name of the headless horseman can a boulder be fat?
Now I remember.
And amongst this terror stood a huge, enormous, bulbous……
Human. (who was so fat he looked like a boulder)
His mouth gaped to commence one of his primeval roars that struck fear into the citizens hearts. But he never roared. He shoved doughnuts into his mouth.
In case you’re wondering, this freakish person-type of thing was called the Obese Fatty. Incredible in size, his main attribute was the fact that he could crush water if he wanted to. Now this guy had heard a rumor from his minions that there was another monster that challenged him to a fight in the Sahara Desert.
He snorted. Puny little weaklings. Couldn’t even stand a black cat. Even God couldn’t save them. His incredibly large foot hit the ground as he stepped forward. Flab shook from head to toe, generating winds that scored 14 on the Beaufort scale.
Another of these mutated monsters inhabited the underground of the Pyramids of Giza.
Why?
Because his head was too big for him live in a mansion, let alone a flat.
Every morning, he would wake up, yawn, hope that his yawn had destroyed a town, then plot the death of at least 1400 poor, trembling, idiotic humans.
And so it happens , on this particular day, that he woke up to hear that the Obese Fatty was coming to defeat him. In his anger, he tore off the nose of the Sphinx and shoved it into the ground. His rage had reached its height; he would not bear any more. He shook the sand off his head, burying a small group of nomads and constructing a sand dune in their memory.
Sahara Desert, eh? His homeland. The Obese Fatty was as good as dead.
The Obese Fatty had crossed the Dead Sea, caused a tsunami on Saudi Arabia(it was totally unexpected), and was finally in Egypt.
All that walking had made him tired. He grinned maliciously.
It was time for his favourite type of travel:
Bouncing.
The Bighead was standing in the desert when he heard a strange, whistling sound. His enemy was late. How could he do that? Punctuality was essential for the Bighead. If he was needed to turn destroy the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, step on the temple of Athena, he was the man.
Never a second late. But this, this thing it obviously did not have the good manners to start a proper, bloody, merciless battle.
Scores of people had gathered around the sacred fighting arena. They were well aware of the rule that bound the two tyrants:
If you are challenged by someone, you cannot hit anyone else.
So they gathered to watch the spectacle. They were your everyday humans: polite and unblemished on the outside, barbaric on the inside. They just loved blood and gore.
The Bighead was annoyed. How could he fight with this racket? He was trying to come up with a battle plan, but he just couldn’t concentrate. He resisted the urge to kill all of those annoying shrimps.
Then the Obese Fatty fell on him.
Point one to the Fatty.
The Obese Fatty knew he was unexpected when he saw the Bighead staring in the wrong direction. So he had taken the chance and fallen on him. A perfect shot, too.
However, Fatty did have a weak point. He had always failed in logic at school, and was too stupid to realize that he had hit the Bighead’s head.
.. And that was where the Bighead was strongest.
He realized his mistake when he found himself being lifted a hundred yard into the air; then dropped down at the speed of a bullet. This came as quite a shock to him. He had never been hit in all the trillions of battles he had fought.
You never were hit, Obese Fatty! What’s wrong with you? A voice said.
But there was another: Don’t forget, you fought all those battles with humans.
The Bighead had felt drained of energy. It had made him powerless after tossing the Fatty aside like that. The Fatty had am upperhand, he knew that.
He also knew that he was going to die.
But not without a fight.
With a terrifying roar, he ran faster than a cheetah. Lowering his head, he aimed straight for the stomach—
BANG!
He hit something rock-hard. The crowd cheered louder than ever, showing their approval.
The Fatty was surprised, but unhurt. Seeing the Bighead dazed, he initiated Plan B.
With tremendous punches, the bighead was hit in the stomach. One after the other….the Fatty seemed relentless.
His legs crumpled underneath him. The Fatty’s grin grew wider than ever, finally resembling the Cheshire cat.
“No, no, have mercy…..” Bighead implored.
The Fatty jumped, fell on his belly, shot 200 yards into the air, and fell on the Bighead.
He took the full force of the Fatty’s weight. The bones in his legs shattered. All that remained were his arms and head.
“Be happy I left you alive,” the Fatty said.
No, dear reader, that is not the ending. The Bighead had some fight in him, still. He pulled out his tiny straw with its sharp needle inside. And, with what became the last breath of his life, he blew.
The Obese Fatty exploded with such might that it blasted all on watchers from the site. Some found themselves, confused, at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean; others at the North Pole.
In the remembrance of the Obese Fatty:
Sometimes, it’s Mind Over Matter. I might be a bit late in saying this, though.
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