About 20 four years ago the ocean used up all the towels attempting to dry itself. There were none left. Cotton no longer grew underground. Synthetic materials got so scared of being used and abused that they converted back into crude oil. The resources had, for lack of a better term, dried up. The ocean wanted to find a way to become dry without the human weaved glory that was the bath towel.
Eventually as humbling as it was the ocean decided to speak to its denizens in an attempt to sort a solution through the contribution of others. Salmon, Flake and Octupus alike were all involved in the first meet of the coralosseum. As chance would have it it was flake who spoke instantly of his species’ heaven.
“If I would have to have a choice between moisture and dryness it is the control of the white powder from above that helps us to be more delicious. Chips too.”
Octopus was silent because calamari isn’t as talkative as flake. Salmon knew nothing of this drying agent as his range was limited to the clear lake and river water that fellates into the sea. So the ocean sent all of the flake to the surface in one fell swoop of Poseidon-esque brutality.Naturally all the sailors who only eat fish and chips sprinkled salt all over the ocean at once. Saxa made millions. Salt shakers were given up in favour of large helicopter drops of tonnes of the sillysiltysalt. The sailors called their wives and sons. The wives called the potato factory who seized the opportunity and flew planes over the sea, throwing potatoes at the plane’s turbines which simultaneously cooked and chopped the chips to perfection due to the heat and the rotating turbines.
Suddenly the ultimate paradox became a reality. Water became drier than air. Salt dried the water and water wetted the salt. There was so much pleasure erupting from the salt and ocean’s love that the salt multiplied like a virile seed in a jar of female sexual organs.
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