Click space bar if it’s a demon Click up arrow if it’s an alien Click down arrow if it’s an axolotl
One day I was feeling bored so I jet skied to the Americas. I landed in California, then made a deal with a trucker, who got me to Mexico City. The lake was pretty gross, but I wanted to go swimming. Then I met one of these little guys (look at the image). I thought it was a demon or something, so I put it in a jar and went to find a church. Thing is, I’m not Catholic, and I couldn’t find another type of church, so I went to a homeless man on the street and asked him what it was. I had to use google translate to talk to him, but then he tried to mug me, but luckily a nearby college friend of his distracted him and I went to the subway. A jazz quartet was busking there, so I gave them some money. I realized I couldn’t talk to all of these people because none of them spoke Tuvaluan, so I went up to the jazz quartet. I told them I could get them studio time if they could get me to San Jose, which is where I parked my Jet Ski. We all piled up in a van. I drove, and they played music in the back. I stopped at a gas station and I got the demon thing some trail mix. I got me and the jazz quartet some hamburgers. The demon thing didn’t want the trail mix, so I gave it some worms I had (us Tuvaluans always have some extra fish bait). We were all full but then we saw a wall in the distance. We all silently cursed trump and decided to drive around a wall. Luckily, I happened to personally know one of the border patrol guards, and Jazz musicians always have passports on them. So we showed him our passports and he let us through the wall. We made our way to San Jose and I got my Jet Ski. I told them to pile up on the Jet Ski, and we got the van to fit on the jet ski, and they played music across the pacific. The demon thing was having some fun and I gave it some mackerel. Eventually, in about a week, we had made it across the pacific. We were almost out of water, and the trumpet had gotten soggy. Anyway, everyone was relieved when we arrived in Tuvalu. My friend, George, had a recording studio in his basement, so I sent the jazz quartet there. I went to the mormon church and they said it wasn’t a demon, it was just an alien. Then I went to the news and told them I had found an alien. They said it was an axolotl, and that it was just an animal. Then some Mexican government hitman showed up at my doorstep and told me to give him the axolotl. I threw some fish bait at him and made a mad dash for Australia. The axolotl crawled into my shirt and skittered out of my sleeve as I got onto my Jet Ski, where the van had fallen off. That specific Mexican hitman has a lifetime ban in Australia, so I am safe there now. But there are more hitmen out there, and they will find me soon. I WILL POST ANOTHER UPDATE NEXT WEEK. I found this image online, so credit to that I guess.
