Tuesday, February 27, 2007 @ 19:19
number two hundred and seventy-one
carlton ate the remote control because he was hungry. carlton had no idea he would die in his sleep four hours later.
he had some difficulty fitting the device into his mouth at first. being not too bright, he tried doing it lengthwise first. obviously, but not that obviously to carlton, it didn't help much. so he tried it width-down first. he managed to place the remote control into his mouth, up to the number 5.
his saliva kept slopping onto the rug. but he had to salivate to lubricate the entry of the remote control into his gullet. it's not an easy thing to do.
he got it down in the end.
the remote control was visible. if carlton stood in front of a light source you could see a rectangular in the shadow of his throat. carlton watched some telly before going to bed.
poor carlton.
p.s. he was buried. cremation would destroy the remote control, and his mother still wanted it.
"pigs love making goats shriek. me like."
so come on, tell me.