Riccardio

About a year ago, Sam and I discussed and began writing a story together. It has the potential to be pretty great {naturally}, but we've put it on hold for a while because we're busy and a little bit lazy.

But around 2AM a few nights ago, we began collaborating on a new piece...

Me: Do you want to make up a ridiculous story?

PC: What do you mean?

Me: Like each say a sentence.

(I'm also really tired, just btw. That's becoming evident.)

Like, there once was a silver pineapple named Riccardio, whose dream was to become a neural surgeon.

PC: He lived in a Canadian gentleman named Robertina, who had self-esteem issues and three left feet.

Me: His wife was a liberated peach from Phoenix, who loved to declare her love in Arabic, causing trouble every time the couple wanted to fly.

PC: One day, they purchased an emu that wore a suit of armor.

Me: It fit inside the Canadian gentleman surprisingly well, but it disagreed with the gentleman's second left foot.

PC: The emu was happy to have a home, even if it did smell like outer space,

Me: The emu's name was Raddish and he spent most of his time dyeing the leg hair of spiders.

PC: One day, a penguin appeared and wanted the emu to share, setting the emu off the deep end.

Me: The emu's shift in temperment made him more agreeable to the gentleman's second left leg, but left the silver pineapple and the liberated peach feeling like failures as radioactive psychologists.

PC: Riccardio eventually had enough; the breaking point came one day, after he realized hewas a pineapple, and obviously belonged iuimderwater.

And I can't do this anymore xD

Me: Yeah, I was just thinking it was right about time to be done with this.

*sigh* We have such potential.

~Stephanie

P.S. IT'S OFFICIALLY CHRISTMASTIIIIIIIIIIIIME.