Today was different, though. Perhaps it was the night breeze. Perhaps it was just the fact that winthrope felt a tingling in his loins. Whatever it was, Winthrope knew that this was the night he would become a man. He was going to Rebel. He wasn't going to be babied any longer. It was time. Winthrope was going to feed himself.
So he walked inside, gently pushed aside his mother, whose skirt had ridden up her varicose veined legs, and sat down in front of his peas. Mommy sat by, a tear in her eye.
"Oh bob" she whimpered to her husband, Bob, who's penis, by the way, was over 13 inches long, "We're losing him"
Bob stood by silently, Proud as a father could be, wondering if his boy, now a man, had inherited his manlihood. I should mention that Winthrope did not inherit his father's size. His penis was almost a vagina, it was so small.
Well. Winthrope began to eat. He ate, and he ate... and he ate. This being his first time eating by himself, he was intrigued, and did so for three hours. All counted, he ate two hundred and sixty-five bowls of mashed peas, all home grown if I might add.
He patted his tummy, content. He then looked over at his proud parents.
He smiled.
Then he puked green Hell. His parents drowned in pea soup, and he was left alone.
"Damn Goats" He cried between sobs "Why did they have to make me peas?"
He then drank up the pea soup and died of indigestion.