So i was on the elevator, see, and these two dudes came on (electricians), and this one dude says to the other dude:
“So, my brother, he used to live with me here, but moved to Michigan. And he had this pet turtle” (Holds hands up to show size is small box turtle size) “His new place has a pond in the backyard, and he let the turtle outside to walk around. So the turtle left. Then my brother put up a small white fence about 9 inches high around the pond, and…” At that point he left the elevator.
So, what do you think the point of the story was, and where it was headed? My theory is the turtle returned, and tore down part of the little fence in order to get to the pond. But what do you, the viewers at home think?
then he put in a nice flat rock for the turtle to sun himself. Then he got another turtle, of the female persuasion <wink-wink-nudge-nudge>, to, you know, keep him from getting lonely.
Well, that was a year ago. Now you can’t out into the damned yard without stepping on a damned turtle. He’s got to move, for crissakes.
"…and that’s when the bomb hit. By God, those were the days. Men were men, women were women, men had turtles and it was glorious to be a porn star.
Of course, that was before the war when you could go out in the sun in Michigan without being savaged by wolves. Not those small wolves, by golly, but the big ones, the ones with the enormous silicone enhanced lips.
Not that I’d notice, mind you, because I was many things: an electrician, a fence builder, a turtle herder, but I was NEVER a porn star, by gosh. We’d sit around our little backyard pond–we called it “television” back in those days–and invent convenient little gadgets, like telemarketing or France.
Of course, after a while, the Depression hit and we wound up eating little Blinky. He sure was a cute feller, the way he’d sing and dance for us. I’ll miss him.
“Then my brother put up a small white fence about 9 inches high around the pond, and…” went looking for the little feller. Well, little did my brother know that the turtle had wandered into some nuclear (that’s “nook-ye-ler”) waste and mutated into a hideous monster turtle and ate my brother. That’s why I’ve got to take tomorrow off so I can go to his funeral, sir. Honest, that’s the reason.
“…and just last night, I heard a faint scratching at my front door. I opened it but no one was there. Then I looked down and there was my brother’s turtle! He’s walked 2,000 miles to get back to the home he remembered. His little feet were worn down to just stubs, I tell ya.”