Now, let me tell ye' a tall tale of suspense, gratitude, belief and above all; Magnesium.
Before I bought this shoe I used to be an average kinda' guy. I worked a normal 40 hour week and the Stop 'n' Shop you know how it is...
I saw a poster for a lost dog, 'Scrunchy', and I knew I had to help. But how was I, a mere store merchant (or shelf stacker if you'd prefer) supposed to find this dog, and more importantly, fight crime. As we all know this was the real meaning behind the poster.
I went home, burnt up a couple of Hot Pockets and munched 'em down like a common dandy while surfing the electrical interwebs.
"NIKE AIR FOAMPOSITE ONE" I saw, "SHOE OF THE FUTURE" I read, "KICK CRIME ALL THE WAY TO LOUISIANA" I imagined.
Click, click, press. Type. Click, click, click. And my monthly wage was gone and the shoes were on there way to me (Hey, if I could go without food for a month, so could the kids!).
Several weeks later and a package arrived at my front door. Delivered by a usual mailman, I expected a shoe of this calibre to have been hand delivered by a flaming, space-suit wearing corpse of Abraham Lincoln riding a Unicorn made of steel but I guessed a mailman would do.
I eagerly snatched the crate from his chubby sausage-fingers, kicked his heinie the heck 'outta my doorway and tore the layers of cardboard, plastic and paper apart to reveal these Space-age beauties.
I stomped my fat trotters inside, gave my piggies a wiggle and before I knew it; literally, seconds later I was 6 stone lighter, I had pecs comin' 'outta the wazoo and muscles on my muscles.
Now lets be honest, these shoes 'aint no Crocs but they are the nearest darned things you can get for 150x the price.
I dropped my snout to the pavement and started sniffing out that stinkin' dog as if it was a 10-pack o' Twinkies.
2 months and a crate of root beer later and I no closer to solving this puzzle than the day I dropped outta' elementary.
Along my travels I encountered numerous comrades and a fair few enemies later including my old arch nemesis "Roll of Tape Man" each of whom caused me no end of grief.
Long story short I found that smelly old mongrel squashed flat as a crisp on 8-99th Street on 4th intersection of Route 101. Bitch.
I peeled his lower-back-end off of the highway and folded him like an origami Dorito, packed him in a 4-by-2 envelope and sent him on down the Mississippi, hopefully to bring another family joy at this wonderful Christmas time of year.
Who gives a cream-cracker whether or not his owner wanted him back in wafer-thin form. I never even told him I was gonna find the little guy so I couldn't care less if he knew or not. And after having not paid my rent for the whole time I was away so the house and all my stuff was probably gone.
Looks like I'm on my own for the time being, fare well and I hope whomever shall find this note stuffed in the envelope with the Dorito dog shares my tale with the world and expresses my true love for what can only be described as a shoe from the big, hairy dude upstairs himself.
