The Guy Who Went Hunting for Lions in the City

So there was this guy who lived in New York City in an apartment full of guns. He had always had a dream to go to Africa, where he planned to hunt down and shoot lions. He couldn't afford a plane ticket to Africa with his life savings of $34.56. "Okay," he said to the airport personell, "I'll be flexible. Where CAN I afford a ticket to?"

The airport ticket salesman did some calculations and said, "We could fly you to the next neighborhood over, but it would probably be safer to take a Taxi."

"No!" said the Guy. "I want a PLANE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He seized some brochures and began tearing them up to show his outrage.

"Okay, fine, we'll get you a ticket for the next neighborhood over!"

And so, the Guy was flown over there. He brought his guns with them (he got the guns past security by claiming they were lollipops).

He got out of the plane in the crowded New York street. "Time to hunt some lions!" he said.

And so, he hid in a camoflauged shelter by the side of the road with his gun at the ready, on the off-chance that a lion would come roaming down the crowded New York street. In his first two years of doing this, he didn't shoot anything. In his third year, he did shoot at what he thought was a lion, but it turned out to be a pigeon.

He faithfully roamed the streets of New York for the rest of his life. His gun was always at the ready. But he never saw a lion. He continued to patrol the streets until he died (siwS) at the ripe old age of 405. Immediately after his death, hundreds of lions emerged from dumpsters all around town, knowing that it was finally safe, that their hunter was gone.

They lived happily ever after.

Amen.