Flaming Bunnies of Greenland
Astute readers will note that a few students inserted their own "in-joke" surrealism references, either in honor of the assignment or to undermine its logic of alleged spontaneity.
An exquisite corpse
As excavated by the members of RTVF 322 : fall 2008: Northwestern University
We entered Glen’s cell, a bleak, cold arrangement of bars and solid cement. The array of carved soap blocks and newspapers on the floor spoke to the presence of a man with much time on his hands. He laid in the mess until the Incident arrived. And she called herself “the Incident” because she was always arriving. But upon her arrivals, she would find herself wondering where exactly she is. L.A. D.C. NYC, every time she thought she knew she was going to find her dream city she would see it again. Through any means necessary, no matter how long it took. Needless to say it took hours. By the time it was done, a lady in Rome had sewn a set of curtains. But the curtains caught fire when she fell asleep with her crack pipe lit. And just when she thought she would be saved, the fire spread to her bunny and Floppy’s tail burst into flames.
Then, at that moment, a nearby dirt hill exploded into a volcanic, seething mass of fire ants. The ants began their slow, inexorable march out of the volcano and into the city below. “I’m hungry!” cried one of the youngest, as he trudged along amongst the ash of the volcano. “Me too! Let’s get some grub!” she agreed as she wiped the sweat from her brow. They run towards the candy store and begin beating the kids with gigantic candy canes and stabbing themselves with lolipopsticks. “I’m so sorry, children,” Mr. Man cried, “please forgive me for all the wrongs I’ve done.” And with that we discovered the world’s most dangerous child molester. His arrest was headline news as far East as Malaysia. Though at home only his dog cared. That he had killed himself. After his death, the whole town celebrated with festivals and candy because he was a selfish, obnoxious bastard. The consternation of a million small businesses meant nothing. They would all be out of business soon. And return to search for the grapes. Tearing her feet apart like ants under a microscope. Was what it felt like as Susan got her nails buffed. And painted in a luscious shade of grassy green. But the green was actually red, a tragic symptom of colorblindness. So the cars collided all at once and traffic jams mounted the globe, except in Greenland.
Thus, Greenland became the new center of economic growth and development. And the green people became the rulers of the university. As present rulers of the universe, the people of green flesh soon forgot how they came to be in charge. They were so confused that each them started to look more and more delicious. They all began to undress for no apparent reason. Skin rubbing on skin; sweat everywhere. As the Indian Chief taught his son the art of tanning. The chief’s wife sewed a quilt. She draped it over herself and began to pray. Soon the priest walked in and asked if everything was ok. “The taste of flesh was just so sweet and buttery,” he said. Then the entrance covered with clover opened and a polio ridden gnome stumbled out. The gnome clamped onto his hand and wouldn’t let go, all the while screaming about his affliction. He went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed a handful of aspirin. With the hope that it would cure his cancer. He fought the illness off night and day. Soon he regained his health and could box again. But she, she would never regain consciousness. And I was like, “Mustard? I’m ketchup Mothafucka—Zap you dumbass!” Condiments? What the hell do we need condiments for? Get some real food! We have real food. Condiments are just a good addition. You know, some ketchup, mustard, a little color, the spice of life. I never eat hamburgers any other way!
That’s right! It’s medium-well or bust. Rare is not an option. But where there’s beef, there’s a man to chew it. So he chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed. And looked towards home plate before pitching. He decided to go with an old-fashioned curveball.
If only the corn was ripe that day. But it wasn’t so he was forlorn. After all, aren’t we but measly clowns before the eyes of God? Thought the old farmer as he sharpened his plow. He loved peas and ate 3 with each meal. Not to mention, as a rule, he only masturbated with his left hand. Why was his giraffe on fire?