I was a little child, maybe 5, on a ferry to France.
"OMG", thought my tiny, sugar-addled mind, "ITZ TOM N JERRY!1!11!1". I was not wrong; there stood a giant Tom and giant Jerry: my two favourite cartoon characters, their crazy adventures bringing joy to me in ways that nothing else can.

"I WANNA HUG", I prepubescently growled, running up to the massive, brown mouse. A look of sheer glee stretched across my ugly little face as I wrapped my snotty fingers into his coarse, sexual fur. "JERRY", I honked, "WHY HAVE YOU GOT SUCH HAIRY ARMS?".

"You silly little cunt", he replied, "I am a mouse. Of course I have hairy arms."

"FINE, BUT WHY ARE YOU WEARING A WATCH?", I foghorned, stepping back.

"Because I'm a fucking 38 year old man who's only doing this job so I can pay for coke and whores after the holiday. I fucking hate kids. I fucking hate you. You are a disgusting, snotty little brat, and I would become a paedophile just to get my revenge on nasty little shits like you, but unfortunately I'm too repulsed to even consider rodgering you. Now get out of my sight before I stab you to death and dump your carcass in the sea."

So I went and hugged Tom instead. He was my favourite anyway.
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Thu 25 May 2006, 21:42, Reply)