Tom Thumb In The Twilight Zone.

"I gut frendz in loe plazes" played in the background. I stepped to the counter at the Tom Thumb, which I am sure is another evil arm of Oprah’s consumer driven Walmart Nazi Empire, but what the hell, they sell beer at midnight. I grabbed the '2 for 99 cent' sour gummy worms off the rack, and noticed the enigmatic gordian knot before me. Alright well to be honest, at first I was drawn to the tiny butt clevage hanging out of her thin shorts, that had cheer written across them, but then it took a turn as I noticed the crutches and the amputated leg shrouded in a prestine pure white gauze, accept for one tiny drop of blood where this adolscent siren’s knee was suppossed to be. she glided to the counter and purchased a soldier of fortune magazine, a Hustler and a pack of Marlboro Reds. As the 1 legged pigtailed vision of statutory rape climbed into her 4 wheel drive with 46’’ gumbo mudders, the cashier said, “I know she ain’t but 16 but the purdy lil thing done got mangled up, she praolly needz a smoke”