Phlegm Biscuit: An Underdog Story

I was a very lonely person. I had no friends, except for my toothbrush. But my toothbrush ran away from home when I

was 12, leaving me alone. My parents saw how lonely I was, so they

decided to buy me a pet. On Christmas morning, or rather the morning after Christmas,

Because we always celebrated holidays the day after they happened, they gave me a cage,

with a pet inside. It was a ball of my dad's mucus. I named it Phlegmbiscuit.

It was a wonderful pet. I fed it ledduce every day.

I fed it scraps from the dinner table when my parents were busy

fornicating on top of it.

After a while, I taught it to do tricks. "Sit!" I'd say, and it sat.

"Stay," I'd say, and it stayed for weeks at a time.

I tried to teach it to "roll over" but I guess it was too confusing.

And so, we grew up together. I'd put it on a bench when I left for school,

And it would always be loyally waiting for me when I returned.

In return, I took it to the finest dog grooming facilities

Of course, it never actually got groomed because the groomers refused

to groom a slimy ball of phlegm. But I took it to the places, nonetheless.

One day, I decided to learn to ride on Phlegmbiscuit's back.

I said, "Okay, phlegmbiscuit, I'm gonna ride you!"

We were in an open feild. I sat on its back for eight hours.

We didn't move, but it was a thrill anyway.

We soon started competing in horse races.

I won first place once, when we raced against a guy

Who was trying to ride a dead horse. What a victory!

I competed in horse races for five years.

Of course, by "competing" I mean "I ran out on to the track and pretended to be racing"

but hey. Then, a miracle happened. I got into the kentucky derby.

Thanks to a typo by the recruiting board. They meant to type someone else's

name, but they typed mine instead.

I was in! The day of the race came. Phlegmbiscuit was nervous.

I think. It's hard to read the emotions of snot.

But I decided he was nervous.

I gave him a carrot to calm him down, but he wasn't hungry.

We went out on to the track. All the other competitors were on their horses already.

I put my faithful Phlegm ball on the track, and sat on it.

I could tell by the squelching noise it made that it was ready to race.

The race began. The other horses bolted out of the starting gate.

Phlegmbiscuit didn't move. "Take your time," I said, patting him.

The other horses were halfway around the track.

The commentator said, "Looks like it's all over for old Phlegmbiscuit."

I started to get nervous.

Then the nervousness turned to fear. Was I going to LOSE?

I couldn't stand the humiliation if I lost.

I knew that if I lost, I'd end up spending the next eight weeks

In a bathroom, turning the faucet on and off.

But then, when all seemed hopeless, it happened.

The man who was in first place spontaneously combusted.

Then, the guy who was in second place was flattened by an asteroid.

Then, a drunk driver came hurtling into the stadium. He flattened another one.

Then, the horse who was in fourth place was captured and ritualistically sacrificed by a monk.

Another one suddenly broke all four of it's legs, and rolled helplessly off a nearby cliff.

Then, an earthquake occured, which opened up a fissure in the ground,

into which 6 of the remaining horses plummetted.

Another one was eaten by a lion who'd escaped the zoo.

The remaining three all crashed into each other, leaving nothing but a mound

of disembodied limbs. I was declared the winner!

It was the happiest day of my life.

I lived happily ever after with phlegmbiscuit, until he tragically got rabies and I had to shoot him. He's buried in my backyard, next to my barrel of rat poison. I also raise mucus now. I have over 4 balls of phlegm in my stable so far. I'm hoping to become a dealer.

'THE ENDNDN"44333344v3###'