I decided to take a well deserved break after the "alligator incident", so I went where I always go when I need a break: sunset spas in east LA. When I got there I noticed phillipe in the corner; his tan, wet skin reminded me of the luxury tooled leather seats standard in any King Ranch© F-series© pickup. I slipped out of my muddy clothes, and into the steaming hot spa, all 8 jets roaring like the cylinders in a bored out Windsor v8.
Phillipe came in with nothing but a short towel on, sliding slowly across the floor.
"Why hello there mike, shall I join you?" He purred.
"Don't make me get on my knees like a gm executive begging for money" I replied.
Phillipe started across the floor, but his foot caught on a bar of soap on the floor and he came crashing down, cracking his head open on the door jam. Blood gurgled from his mouth as he tried to form words for a few seconds, but soon he was completely silent, like the electric motor on a Ford Escape© Hybrid. While understandably upset by phillipes accident, I finished up my steaming, and ran out to the parking lot, anxious to get back home, enjoying the ride in my diesel f350© Superduty© Powerstroke©.
As I scampered out the door, I thought about phillipes bleeding, decaying body in the now locked steam room (I had nothing to do with it, but I thought it best if I took the only key), but was soon distracted by thoughts of the 2010 Flex© Hybrid.
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