El Camino Story
By: Vera
Once there was a dude named the black skull ninja of death. He was born in the 80s, and had taken all his childhood culture to heart. He was a wonderful fellow, dressed in his studded black garb with a studded black steering wheel cover. The only problem... it looked really lame in his white little car. He needed a vamp-mobile. That's what he needed. But where to find a car worthy of his illustrious wheel cover? He wasn't sure.
Then one day while strolling down the street he spotted it. The car of his dreams. El Camino... oh princess of vehicles, oh shining morning glory of cars, oh mightiest and most magnificent of the many modes of transportation! Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? No, for thou art fairer and more beautiful than all days combined! (Excluding the rainy and snowy grey ones, since that might bring the average down).
Anyway, at the helm of this splendid show of motor power was a stunning specimen of female humanity. She was wearing... of all the dreamy things... a pair of studded gloves. (Faux leather... she's a vegetarian).
She looked up at our hero and winked, smiling a sly smile. That was it. He was captivated by woman and car alike. He couldn't decide which he liked more. He hooked a rope onto his ninja boomerang death star and flung it at the car, where it swung around and secured to the rearview mirror. (Hey. this is a story. i don't have to explain it any better than that. )
She was caught! the black skull ninja of death sauntered up to the car and leaned on the window of the el camino, holding tightly to his rope lest the wiley young lass should try to drive away. But she didn't. She kissed him.
Damn! Life was too good to be true. He climbed into the el camino where they drove off into the sunset in search of a dance club that played 80s music all night.
THE END
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