This is me and my street-vendored hog dog and the scoundrels who were coveting it. I'm onto their tricks though and I told them so.
It all started on a sunny day at Sea World. (If this were a TV show, this would be the part where the screen gets all fuzzy and fades into a black and white scene.) I was about 15 years old (most likely wearing pig-tail braids), happily walking to the next sea creature show with Mom, Dad, and teenage versions of Will and Levi. (Both were wearing baseball caps, I'm sure.) My appetite was being satisfied after a very persuasive argument-most likely pleading-with Dad that I would die without a nice cinnamony-sugary snack.
So there I was, churro in hand, the breeze in my hair, the sun on my already sun-kissed face, and the scent of fish in the air. Life was good. Unfortunately I was not paying attention to anything else in the air, but they were most certainly paying attention to me! (BUM, BUM, BUM!)
Before I knew it, a seagull was swooping down out of nowhere with his eye on my victual! He grabbed hold of the top with his ferocious talons, but my death grip only allowed him to break off the top. Then, as if that weren't enough, ANOTHER beast swooped down in an attempt to capture what was left behind! They were tag-teaming it!! They had conspired against me!! The second brute didn't get it all either because of my ninja grip, so I decided to get even and threw the rest of it at him! I don't remember if I hit him or not, all I remember is my rage and the laughter of everyone witnessing the incident.
Lesson learned: protect your food or you may be feeding the scavenging brutes of the sky. (Your imagination can now fade back into present day.)
