You push the monk, forcing him to stumble backwards a few steps before regaining his balance. He quickly returns to your side, his robe rubbing against your arm. Though frustrated, you refuse to hit him, regardless of how he acts. Instead, you grab his pamphlet, nod thanks, and pray that he leaves you alone. The monk stops you as you try to pass. He removes his robe, revealing a perfectly pressed police uniform. Your arm is snapped in half as he throws you to the ground. Six additional policemen appear. Chad tries to run, but they gun him down. He drops the ice-cream container as he falls. The urine spills out against the dusty street towards you leaving your face covered with your tears, piss, mud, and the barrel of a gun. "What did I do?" you ask. The officer states that you assisted a Tibetan monk in spreading false reports and the punishment is death.
After years of being misunderstood, I had hoped we finally had "our" story. I was wrong.
He had a yellow inflatable tube around his waist, the kind with a comical duck head. There was a tiny fish in one of his hands, and a trident in the other. In the background a squirrel wearing shades was water skiing.
For fans of meaningless awards, these awards are extra meaningless.
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