Little Billy and The River of No Return
One day Little Billy decided to go to throw some leaves in the river. He'd been warned by Old Man Ploot that the river's current was strong and not to get too close, so he approached with caution.
The river was raging that day (Wednesday the 27th), making a sound not unlike a really, really loud river. Billy had gathered the bestest leaves he could find, nice and charcoaly, which he carried in a big fireman's hat. He made sure not to drop any, lest they be raked up in a whirlwind by Steamy Dan, the Leaf-Raking man. With a name like that, you'd think Dan ran a business, but he didn't. He just liked raking leaves. A LOT. So much so that the neighborhood mothers made it a special point to tell their children to stay far away from Dan. Very far away.
Little Billy held the hat of leaves close to his chest as he edged ever closer to the river's orange waters. The kids all thought it looked like a river of Kool-Aid, and Yongary Mitchell once scooped up and drank a cup of it. The doctors said that what he drank was filled with carsono....syan....soowi.....some bad stuff. Yongary kinda acted weird after that, and couldn't play with the other kids on nights when there was a full moon.
The waters of the river were moving so fast that they almost looked like a really fast-moving river. Billy took a whiff of its plasticy smell and grew ever more excited about chucking the leaves into the shiny current. He took off his helmet (mother always insisted that he wear his father's leather 1931 football helmet when went out to play, as he was prone to getting accidentally stabbed in the head if he
didn't) and handed it to his invisible friend Gregory Von Haww, who clumsily dropped it on the ground (Gregory was very clumsy, and never could manage to hold onto anything, though he was good at keeping secrets and accepting blame). Little Billy thought for a moment that he could actually TASTE the river, he was so close to it now, but it turned out that it was just the remnants of a baloney sanwich stuck between his teeth.
He took the helmet of leaves and started spinning around and around in circles near the edge of the river, like those guys he saw on the Olympic show with the big balls (attached to chains). As he spun round and round, the world started to blur, and his balance went all to hooey. Just when he thought he couldn't spin any faster, he heaved the helmet full of perfect, charcoaly leaves into the river.
The problem with Little Billy was that, to be polite, he was kind of a dummy. You see, when he hurled that shiny red helmet of leaves into the river, he neglected to let go of it, plunging into the raging, swirling, tangy waters. Nobody ever saw Little Billy again, because, you see, this was....
THE RIVER OF NO RETURN.
The moral of this story: don't trust imaginary friends to dive in and save you.
The river was raging that day (Wednesday the 27th), making a sound not unlike a really, really loud river. Billy had gathered the bestest leaves he could find, nice and charcoaly, which he carried in a big fireman's hat. He made sure not to drop any, lest they be raked up in a whirlwind by Steamy Dan, the Leaf-Raking man. With a name like that, you'd think Dan ran a business, but he didn't. He just liked raking leaves. A LOT. So much so that the neighborhood mothers made it a special point to tell their children to stay far away from Dan. Very far away.
Little Billy held the hat of leaves close to his chest as he edged ever closer to the river's orange waters. The kids all thought it looked like a river of Kool-Aid, and Yongary Mitchell once scooped up and drank a cup of it. The doctors said that what he drank was filled with carsono....syan....soowi.....some bad stuff. Yongary kinda acted weird after that, and couldn't play with the other kids on nights when there was a full moon.
The waters of the river were moving so fast that they almost looked like a really fast-moving river. Billy took a whiff of its plasticy smell and grew ever more excited about chucking the leaves into the shiny current. He took off his helmet (mother always insisted that he wear his father's leather 1931 football helmet when went out to play, as he was prone to getting accidentally stabbed in the head if he
didn't) and handed it to his invisible friend Gregory Von Haww, who clumsily dropped it on the ground (Gregory was very clumsy, and never could manage to hold onto anything, though he was good at keeping secrets and accepting blame). Little Billy thought for a moment that he could actually TASTE the river, he was so close to it now, but it turned out that it was just the remnants of a baloney sanwich stuck between his teeth.
He took the helmet of leaves and started spinning around and around in circles near the edge of the river, like those guys he saw on the Olympic show with the big balls (attached to chains). As he spun round and round, the world started to blur, and his balance went all to hooey. Just when he thought he couldn't spin any faster, he heaved the helmet full of perfect, charcoaly leaves into the river.
The problem with Little Billy was that, to be polite, he was kind of a dummy. You see, when he hurled that shiny red helmet of leaves into the river, he neglected to let go of it, plunging into the raging, swirling, tangy waters. Nobody ever saw Little Billy again, because, you see, this was....
THE RIVER OF NO RETURN.
The moral of this story: don't trust imaginary friends to dive in and save you.
