Fandango?

Pus, lots pus. Rice krispies are a bad idea in the mid day, especially followed by voodoo. Leonard and I hit the road for a long day of backpacking and abcessed teeth. Assured by the rotten taste, the pedal eased beneath my pinkie toe. A glance at the map; taffy seemed like a suitable splint. The laffy variety. Only that would do. The jokes was what kept us alive; that was what we would tell all of our friends once we returned safely. It seems like they don’t make tangy taffy anymore, only laffy. The next encounter was a dirty quick stop with a hot little air pump on the side. Leonard stuttered indecencies under his breath. It was between him and Vishnu. Most things were. A once over the candy rack, I spied a tangy and a laffy taffy in close proximity. On closer inspection, the logos that were used appeared to be the same!? I felt a fool, perhaps betrayed even. Textures so close, but those jokes; they proved the difference between Vietnam and Iraq. Leonard came out of a coma due to those smutty tomfooleries. I was not going to allow him to fall back into that same k-hole. After my disgression at the quick stop, we went further away from the land we knew. Feverish conversations followed; a tampon with googly-eyes and an impish mouth was hanging out on the shoulder. Feeling a stare from leonard, I swerved to the side. A worried expression followed, but I continued to leer at the hitchhiking tampon. A rust stain on his upper shoulder told me he was no good.