A Stretch of the Imagination, or How I Boldly Faced the Devil the Night of the Bullwhip

By Kevin, Rialto, Jon (written 4/22/08)

Every creak of the floorboards echoed in the empty halls, bellying the stealthy confidence that the trio supposed they possessed. Chuck, Norris, and their Latino friend, Jesus, had decided earlier that day that the painful experiences they had experienced under the rodeo owner must come to an end.

The bullwhip, that dreadful bullwhip! With trepidation followed closely by defiant boldness, Norris reached up and laid his hands on that hateful object, remembering its disdain of human flesh. He did so carefully, aware that if the snoring devil below him aroused from his sleep, a hell would ensue that would be so awful just the thought of it caused sweat to bead on Norris’s forehead. As the sweat intensified, the beads formed a droplet which fell from the forehead of the kickboxing champion down onto the slumbering foe.

The rodeo owner awoke with the fury of a thousand recently castrated lions. Grabbing the other end of the whip, a great tug-of-war ensued; the whip itself stretched and pulsated like a bloody mass of muscle and tendon. As the titans clashed like the thunderous roar of an ocean of madness and misunderstanding, the bullwhip snapped in twain, and with a whirlwind of tenacity, the whip sheared Norris and the rodeo owner’s face off, leaving a literal bloody mass of muscle and tendon in its wake.