I was just minding my own business in the forest, on a picnic with my good friend, Elder Gilliam. We were chomping on a large sausage together when I heard a growl and a man scream. Gilliam, always quick to the resque, grabbed the first blunt instrument he could find, a long salami and burst into the woods. I chased after him, and when I caught up with him, I saw the Persian cornered against a tree by a large grizzly bear and Gilliam descending upon the bear with the salami. The first swipe at the bears head did nothing, the grizzly didn't even recognize the blow, but as the bear closed in on the Persian, Gilliam did the only thing he could! He bashed the bear in the crotch with the salami, and down the bear went.

"RUN!" Gilliam bellowed at the tall, fair Persian. He looked confused at Gilliam for a moment, but a moment was all the bear needed. It came back up like a lightning and smashed Gilliam's head into some kind of a stew. I shrieked, distracting the bear for just enough time for the Persian to run in my general direction.

Together we sprinted off from the bear, his growls and heavy footsteps always nearby. Through a river, some more forest, a suburban home and a mall, we ran, the bear always on our backs, untill we came to the fateful railroad tracks. With expert timing, we tricked the bear in front of a train. The impact reverse imploded the bear, bathing me and the blonde Persian in crimson goo.

"That was... exciting." I finally said, catching my breath surprisingly fast.

"What the flying fuck was that!?" the very Swedish looking Persian exclaimed, quite obviously confused by the whole ordeal.

I recounted the story up untill this point, minus the mineshaft part, since that hadn't happened yet. Then I added "what is a Swede doing in these parts?"

"I'm Persian god damnit! Does Durf Persimmon sound Swedish to you?"

"Kind of."

"Fuck you, what's your name then!?"

"Jack Michaelson." I stated, quite proudly, which I would regret in mere moments as he would retort.

"That's a fucking hoot, ain't it?" He smirked "wouldn't happen to have been born a white boy?"

I was stunned, "how did you know?"

"Elementary, you jerk. Your name is a dead give away."

"You are making fun of my name?"

He chuckled, "no, I'm just musing how you could have made..." that's all he managed to say because the bear's paw somehow managed to jump at us, with the last hint of life in it and tore Durf wide open. With catlike reflexes, he quickly pressed his arms into his gut, keeping his intestines on the inside.

What happens next is even more incredible, than a long dead bear's paw leaping from the ground and tearing him open, but as I tried ushering him towards civilization we somehow got lost and chased by bloodthirsty squirrels. We saught out refuge in this mineshaft, only to trip and fall down a hole. At the very least, I can look on the bright side. I won't starve for a long time.

 

I think Durf just passed out. I'm hungry.