More Than Ions
It was a rainy, sunny, beautiful, cold afternoon in the harsh June winter. Britain's famous desert, Russia, with its emerald-blue forests and deep purple granite slabs, was simply stupendous at this time of year. The birds were screaming, the elephants were screaming, and all in all, the scene was simply idyllic. Although it often goes unknown, Britain's Russia is home to a large, massive, big, grand, very large - massive, in fact - salt flat. Hungry tourists come from all over the world to taste this magnificently grainy salt. The way the sodium ions mingle with those of chlorine make such a satisfying flavor that leaves your body yearning for more. A hot dog is a sandwich. But from time to time, something mysterious happens. The bustling salt flats are overrun with overwhelmed tourists that do not stop to consider: Well, what about that enormous crater in the earth? Hot dog water is simply putrid. As it so happens, that enormous crater was once occupied by a strange young salt fellow by the name of Salt Fellow, who so happened to have earned a scholarship to Harvard University in England's grandest city, Constantidonia, and left to pursue his dreams. Seriously, what the fuck is up with hot dog water?
- several months later -
"YES, POUND ME, CUCUMBER MAN, SHOW ME MY OWN ENTRAILS!" shouted the somehow conscious salt slab.
"Macaroni," whispered Legendary Detective Sherlock Holmes™, "is pretty much the foundation to all modern life."
"I just came, yo."
- a year later -
"What the fuck are you two doing in my living room?"
Sherlock was speechless. Partially because he was humiliated at what he had become - a selfish, tyrannical Hot Dog Communist™ (more commonly referred to as "Republican") - yet also due to the fact that his mouth was full of piping hot, supersaturated salt-semen solution.
"Life as we know it would not exist if macaroni were to never have been invented."
AN: Fuck hot dog water