In Chaotic Prose, everybody writes the stories. Nobody knows (not even me) who writes which parts. It's all completely anonymous.
There are a few ground rules that I want everybody to observe:
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So there I was, hanging from a thin horizontal steel pole, high above the canyon floor. My hands were sweaty and my grip was starting to give. How did I end up in such a situation? Well, I'm glad you asked. Oh, did I mention that several knives were flying towards me at high speed?
But anyway, it all started
back in 'nam with my friend Charlie. Now don't go getting all confused. His name was Charlie, an unfortunate coincidence that will make all the difference to the end of my story.
So anyway, Charlie and I were walking down the main path of his village, going out for some ice cream. ICE CREAM! When, suddenly, a rabbit hopped in front of us, said, "Hey, fellas, I like your style!" and began to
dance in a tiny circle. But he wasn't really dancing, he was struggling to stay up. It seems that his left foot was missing. That would explain the circles.
I looked at Charlie, who stared at the rabbit as if there was nothing else to see in the world. So yes, he had seen it too. I thought this would be the WORST POSSIBLE TIME to ask Charlie where he got that lucky rabbit foot of his.
Charlie then noticed me looking at him and said
"WHAAAAAAAT?!?!"
"Take it easy, Charlie!" I said. "I'm not accusing you of anything. Besides, I'm glad I'm not hallucinating. I mean, you DO see that rabbit, right?"
"Yes. In fact, we've met. Brian, say hello to Mr. Carrots."
The rabbit offered me his paw and said, "Put 'er there, Mr. Carrots!"