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  • Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
  • Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
  • Subject: Comedy / Humor
  • Published: 04/08/2013

A lean mean connonball popcorn machine.

By Russell E. Teed
Born 1965, M, from Middleboro, MA, United States
View Author Profile
Read More Stories by This Author

The lean mean cannonball popcorn machine

While enjoying this yarn bear in mind that I am a 6’3” man tipping the scales at nearly 300lbs.

I ventured off on a cloudy brisk New England day to the local YMCA for a relaxing indoor swim.

As I labor the distance from the parking lot to my pre-heated pool of pleasure I thought to myself; “I bet octopuses don’t ‘high five’ one another because of the suction cups on their tentacles. Wow, that sentence could have been a literary nightmare with one misspelling of a word, lol lol!”

After shoe-horning my speedos on, I applied my eye drops – doctors’ orders. Inadvertently I had squirted nasal decongestant into my peepers thinking it was my eye drops. My peripheral vision was incredible but my pupils were whistling.

With foggy eyes I found my way to the diving board and yelled “OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE!”

I militaristically trot up to my exit point on the board and jump toward the ceiling. Landing on the launching part with all the grace of Nadia Comaneci on a balance beam I arced the plank to the point where it dolloped the water.

I was catapulted upward nearly to the rafters and while I was up there I thought “I bet powdered milk comes from cows that live in the desert”.

Gravity then thrusts me downward at the speed of… well, gravity, as I curled into my famed cannonball formation.

Unbeknownst to me a school of children were receiving swimming lessons at the time – 55 kids/victims to be exact.

The ensuing Tsunami upon my entrance hurled children, floating apparatuses, and instructors projectile-style into the bleachers like popcorn popping in a popcorn machine – Orville Redenbacher would’ve been impressed.

When I climbed out of the angry waters I realized that my speedos had imploded upon impact. I was greeted with dozens of angry moms who egregiously introduced me to their rapid fire onslaught of rotisserie hand bags. These particular angry moms can lay out one heck of a decent beating I must admit.

The police were nice, my membership was cancelled, and I can’t find my eye drops.

Moral; Never spray your eyes with nasal spray while wearing undersized speedos and cannonball children when their mothers are present and don’t sit in the back seat of a police car naked allowing your own wet skin to near-permanently leave you suction-cupped to the aforementioned seat.

A lean mean connonball popcorn machine.(Russell E. Teed) The lean mean cannonball popcorn machine

While enjoying this yarn bear in mind that I am a 6’3” man tipping the scales at nearly 300lbs.

I ventured off on a cloudy brisk New England day to the local YMCA for a relaxing indoor swim.

As I labor the distance from the parking lot to my pre-heated pool of pleasure I thought to myself; “I bet octopuses don’t ‘high five’ one another because of the suction cups on their tentacles. Wow, that sentence could have been a literary nightmare with one misspelling of a word, lol lol!”

After shoe-horning my speedos on, I applied my eye drops – doctors’ orders. Inadvertently I had squirted nasal decongestant into my peepers thinking it was my eye drops. My peripheral vision was incredible but my pupils were whistling.

With foggy eyes I found my way to the diving board and yelled “OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE!”

I militaristically trot up to my exit point on the board and jump toward the ceiling. Landing on the launching part with all the grace of Nadia Comaneci on a balance beam I arced the plank to the point where it dolloped the water.

I was catapulted upward nearly to the rafters and while I was up there I thought “I bet powdered milk comes from cows that live in the desert”.

Gravity then thrusts me downward at the speed of… well, gravity, as I curled into my famed cannonball formation.

Unbeknownst to me a school of children were receiving swimming lessons at the time – 55 kids/victims to be exact.

The ensuing Tsunami upon my entrance hurled children, floating apparatuses, and instructors projectile-style into the bleachers like popcorn popping in a popcorn machine – Orville Redenbacher would’ve been impressed.

When I climbed out of the angry waters I realized that my speedos had imploded upon impact. I was greeted with dozens of angry moms who egregiously introduced me to their rapid fire onslaught of rotisserie hand bags. These particular angry moms can lay out one heck of a decent beating I must admit.

The police were nice, my membership was cancelled, and I can’t find my eye drops.

Moral; Never spray your eyes with nasal spray while wearing undersized speedos and cannonball children when their mothers are present and don’t sit in the back seat of a police car naked allowing your own wet skin to near-permanently leave you suction-cupped to the aforementioned seat.

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