Elfiya Imgfliocom.

real?

Spire booba pic

“Huh, it seems that you have met a-a horrible demise, my friend. But, uh, y’know, these things happen, an-and life, life goes on. Not for you, obviously, uh, you’re dead, but uh it reminds me of a time I was-I was havin’ a conversation with my friend Orville. We were–uh, were were we? We were by the–wh-the-the river, we were sitting by the river and watching the fish leap over the falls and uh, I–I said to Orville, ‘Y’know sometimes I feel like a fish leaping over and over again. Always trying to get somewhere. Oh, I don’t know where only to find myself in the jaws of a beast.’ He ‘course looked at me surprised, y’know? ‘Have you been in the jaws of a beast, friend?’ To which I said, ‘no, of course not, Orville.’ I said, ‘No, no, no I-I simply meant that life can seem like a relentless endeavor. Overcome meaningless obstacles only to meet an equally meaningless fate, regardless of your efforts, regardless of the obstacles you’ve passed.’ And, uh, Orville, he stood and proceeded to drape me with a picnic cloth. To which I-I-I asked him, I said, ‘friend, what–what are you doing?’ He looked at me–very concerned–really. ‘I feel like you’ve gotten too much sun.’ Indeed, huh, indeed I had. He proceeded to pour me a glass of just ice cold lemonade, ooh, you ever mix it with iced tea? Do a like–little half lemonade half–ooh, it’s so–you try it some–well you can’t, because you’re dead, but–anyways. So, you may be asking yourself, how did I go from sitting by the falls drinking lemonade to being wedged in the air duct, not only with Orville, but with an entire assortment of fruity-colored friends? Well, there’s uh, there’s really no good answer to that, but perhaps I met a demise of my own at some point and this is my afterlife or my dream–whatever it might mean I honestly don’t know. Or, maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all.”

Orville
Like the popcorn man

“My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substan

damn it too long

haha

it was a good one too ;-;