he threw his bike chain up and it landed, laying across all four of them power lines--
the power lines said "PA-YOW!!!"
he drank his RC cola and tossed the 12-ounce bottle onto the stones of the driveway, where it shattered-not into a million small pieces, but only several big dangerous pieces. Kinds good enough for suicide.
then his uncle ran out the house smelling of the malted beverage and shot him in the shoulder(I touch my shoulder in illustration) and the opposite arm(I touch that, too) and severs the seminal vesical, which is a specialized man part used in reproduction(not like boards or glue, but the very pathway through which the baby sauce is squirted along and through, over and under).
but this is esoterica.
I will not back-up for all the world. I will brook no regret in this matter.
I'm told, every time I have an "episode", it causes a small amount of brain damage, which will ultimately accumulate, causing early-onset dementia.
The clock ticks, my friends. You must decide when you stop believing me. I cannot decide for you, or tell you, for even without memory, I'm probably will still be an interesting writer and your good friend.