animalsbeingdicks:

We knew it was time to curb Pickles’ Xbox time when he kept stealing strangers sleds.

animalsbeingdicks:

I knew a dog like this in highschool.

animalsbeingdicks:

I honestly have nothing to say about this. Incredible!

Observe:

Jungle fever dream scapegoat boyfriend ship wrecking ballgame room with a view from the top secret passage of time machine gun rack of lamb chop stick figure head Cold Mountain Dew drop dead meat slab of concrete jungle.

Now you try!

There’s a war going on.  Perhaps a re-enactment.  It is playful.  Costumes seem antiquated.  A Gulf War / Civil War hybrid.  

A company is sponsoring it.  ”Wyago.”  I learn some secret, some conspiracy, one that could severely hurt Wyago.  Now I’m marked.  I have to be protected.  

I have a soldier assigned to me to help me find asylum.  Elian Gonzalez keeps getting referenced.  

We try to hide me out in the woods.  There, I meet Hyun, a colleague from school.  He escorts me into the woods, where I will be safe.  His twin, a more elusive sort, roams the woods and will help me from time to time.  

For good fortune, he gives me his Care Bear, Franklin.  ”If you truly love him, he will become alive for you.”  He is minty green and is as big as the top prize at the fair.  I look Franklin in the eyes, and his slowly become animated.  

He smiles, and takes me into the Care Bear Tunnel, a connective portal between the closets of all the children with Care Bears, the size of a standard corridor.  ”We’ll be safe in here,” says Franklin.  His voice is like Teddy Ruxpin’s.  

The Care Bear Tunnel seems to be composed of squishy bundles of Charmin bought in bulk, all glowing bright purple, completely enveloping me and Franklin.  The floor gives way ever so slightly each step.  The tunnel begins to slope steeply downward.  

“In Care Bear Tunnels, we tumble!” says Franklin.

“Of course!  The Care Bear Tunnel Tumble!” I say.  ”All my friends are rolling these days.  People need to tumble more.”

We lock arms and feet, facing one another, forming a wheel.  Franklin slowly rocks back and forth.  ”Here we go!” shouts Franklin.

We roll rapidly down the slope of the tunnel, up and around various hills and curves.  I’m reminded of Sonic the Hedgehog.

Franklin and I hid out in the tunnel for weeks.  Occasionally, children reach into their closets for their Care Bears and disembodied hands and arms appear from the sides of the tunnel.  We run to the next closet as this happens, narrowly avoiding detection each time.

Franklin gets the idea to start grifting the homeowners the tunnel connects to.  We start leaving paper towel dowels and prostitute’s horseshoes (?) in the closets.  We re-arrange their closets.  

The homeowners begin to believe they have ghosts, allowing them access to valuable “spirit items” which they then get appraised.  To their dismay, the items are all worthless.  (Somehow, this makes us much money.)

My memory fades from there.