After 25 minutes of an interesting and in depth exchange with this stranger next to me, learning first-hand the intimate stories and functions of his armpit, our stop was coming up and like streetwise penguins we manoeuvred ourselves towards the door.
The bus stopped and the driver gave permission for the freedom gates to open, which it did with a hateful attitude and few of us exited the vehicle. Then, the doors prematurely slammed shut with great glee and happiness in its tone and refused to allow anyone else off, unfortunately only a quarter of our group managed to escape. The rest of us were now prisoner and at the mercy of this sadistic driver.
|Muhahahaha! I'm pure evil! (via purpleslinky.com)|
Few of us freedom fighters protested loudly to the front of the bus, we blasted enough volume into the air that people on the street outside were looking at us in shock wondering what was going on, but this turned out to be wasted energy as the bus was already in motion, we were out of luck... But we're not down and out just yet, it would seem.
A freshly lit red light appeared in front of us and the bus stopped again. Absolutely everyone on the bus, even people who didn't want to get off, darted their vision towards the driver's rear view mirror, he just peered back at us with dead eyes. We waited patiently for the lightbulb to turn on in his head, about the error of his ways and to let us off but today, he had an internal power cut and was brain dead and after a few minutes waiting, the lights changed green and we were off again.
|Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. (via eddsworld.co.uk)|
He drove for what seemed like months, the remaining group left on the bus huddled for warmth, technology was useless here, we sent two of the group to go out foraging for food but never returned and we toyed with the idea of killing and eating the guy with the bad armpit odour for food and barbaric humour and a morale booster.
5 blocks later, the bus stopped and the freedom gates opened. With weakened muscles, we awake, stretch and leave this rolling hell, as we exited into civilisation a friend geniously shouted to the driver “I hope you tread on a Lego brick!” - we rubbed our eyes to this strange daylight thing. We'd made it... Alive.
|Yeah, take this you fucker! (via lego.wikia.com)|
Later that night, a man returned home after a long shift to his lonely lifeless bachelor pad. Entering through his front door, he slips off his shoes to allow his feet to breath and he makes a b-line to the fridge to grab himself a well-deserved cold beer. As he walks along the wooden floor, BANG! A sharp pain rockets up from his sole through his sole up to his hairy bald head. He examines his foot and pulls out a Lego brick and a single tear of regret rolls down his cheek.