Is Your Mama a Llama?

"Good morning Obama!" I greeted my pet llama cheerfully, walking into his stable I built him on the side of the house. Obama raised his head with a mouthful of hay at my greeting.

I patted his head and filled up his water bucket and gave him some more hay. "ZACKY!"

I turned to sound of my name being yelled out and saw Brian rushing toward me, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. He waved the sheet of paper in my face. "You gotta read this!" The excitement in his voice was enough to make me chuckle.

"Well, I can't read something that's being waved around," I told him, skillfully removing the page from his grasp. Brian glared at me and I began reading the flier:

Once in a lifetime offer!!!!
Now on sale! The best damn boxers known to man! Made of the finest Kyrgyzstanian silk!
So hurry on over to Intercourse, Pennsylvania and get yourself a pair while supplies last!!!

"Oh. My. God!" I exclaimed, throwing the piece of paper back at him. "We're so going there! It'd be like and adventure!"

Brian jumped into the air excitedly. "Woo! This is gonna be so awesome. Just thinking about those silky boxers cradling my junk gives me the chills." He shivered after he said this.

I busted out laughing at his comment. "TMI dude."

He grin cheesily at me. "And yet you're laughing."

I wiped a tear from my eye and as I did, I glimpsed Obama which gave me a great idea. "What if we take Obama?!"

Brian raised a skeptical eyebrow at me. I continued. "Yeah! He could be like our noble steed!"

Brian sighed dramatically. "Fine. We'll take Obama. But if he starts to stink, you have to bathe him."

I cheered and started getting Obama ready for the trip. Brian went back home to prepare and I did the same. In a few hours, we were heading out for Intercourse, Pennsylvania!

Hours later...
Okay, this was a bad idea. Obama was already getting tired and Brian and I were getting sick of this "old west" riding style and we had only just reached the state line. I think this is proof we wouldn't have lasted when cars didn't exist.

"Who the fuck names a city Intercourse anyway?!" Brian exclaimed angrily. "Some crazy nymphomaniac?!"

Even though I was exhausted and wished we had never tried to endure this, I grinned. "Yeah. Maybe the town is just one big massive orgy."

Both of us started laughing like a pair of hyenas at this. When Brian calmed down a bit, he said, "I say we rent a car and trailer for fuzzy here at the next city." I nodded in agreement.

Little did we know we had a bit of a trial to face before we could get the luxury of a vehicle.

"Woo! Two more miles!" I shouted excitedly as we passed a road sign.

Brian cheered as well and I'm sure if Obama could talk, he'd be saying, "Thank God!"

Suddenly, we were approached by three raggedy men. The one on the right was wearing a torn, tan, trench coat, a black beanie which also had holes in it, his face was unshaven, and most of his teeth were missing. The middle man wasn't in any better condition: his clothes were just as dirty and battered as the first man described, but he had most of his teeth it looked like and instead of a beanie, his head was completely bald. The final man who was on the left was in the worst condition of the three. Like the other two, his clothes were dingy. The most noticeable feature of this fella (besides the stench which they all possessed) was he had a hook for a hand and a peg leg. A shiver raced down my spine at the sight of him.

"Money for the poor?" the guy in the middle asked gruffly.

Brian and I just stared at him. "Um...sorry but we can't spare anything. You see we're on this trip and-" I was cut off by the guy on the right pulling out a gun. Well, what the fuck?! Why doesn't he just sell that?!

"What was that pretty boy?" he hissed at me.

I looked over at Brian and saw fear in his eyes. I didn't blame him; these guys seemed fucking psycho! I averted my gaze back to the three mugging hobos. If only I had telekinesis and could just pull that gun out of his hands with my mind...

I smiled smugly at them. Yeah, I'm gonna be an asshole now even though our lives are on the line. Makes sense, right? "You guys are intimidating and all but we're not giving you shit. So why don't you mosey on back to whatever trash bin you crawled out of and let us be on out merry way."

The three of them scowled at us. Just as the one with the gun was about to pull the trigger and splatter my brains all over the ground, Obama did something I'd never expect from such a gentle animal. He kicked the asshole's hand, sending the gun flying. I'm pretty sure every human mouth was agape at the moment.

The shock withered away quickly and was replaced by rage in the hobos faces, fear in ours. Obama kicked gun dude again in the stomach. While he was doubled over in pain, Brian and I both started beating the shit out of the other two.

Once we had them all beaten to a pulp, we took off in the direction we were heading before we were rudely stopped.

The next morning...
We had managed to get a car for us and a trailer for Obama and were on the road again. It was one hundred times more comfortable and we'd definitely get there faster. I was currently driving and Brian was spacing and peering out the window on "mugging hobo watch" he says.

In the middle of the day, the two of us switched places and Brian took the wheel.

A few hours after the switch, I stared out the window, watching the landscape fly by, not really paying any attention, until suddenly, Brian slammed on the brakes. What now?!

I turned my head to the front window to see an old lady in the middle of the highway, just making her way across slower than anything you could imagine. I swear it was like she wasn't moving!

Brian groaned and banged his head on the wheel. "Really?!" He looked up and shouted, "What did we do to deserve all this?!"

I snorted. "Do you really have to ask?"

Brian looked at me thoughtfully for a second. "Good point."

As soon as the crone was enough out of the way to where we could pass her without hitting her, we drove on.

A few days later....
I was half asleep in the passenger's seat when Brian screamed, "PENNSYLVANIA!"

I jolted awake and sure enough, saw the sign that said, "Welcome to Pennsylvania!"

The two of us cheered and I pulled out the map. "We should probably get there in...thirty minutes now," I announced excitedly. "That is, if we don't get stopped by old ladies in the middle of the road. Or mugging hobos."

Brian's eyes widened and he sped up.

Finally, after ages of driving (even though it was only twenty minutes thanks to Brian's speeding), we came to the city limits of Intercourse, Pennsylvania. I could almost feel myself wearing those silky boxers now.

Since the town was small, it wasn't hard to see the neon signs saying things like, "Kyrgyzstanian silk boxers this way!" Once at the store, we parked and I let Obama out of the trailer to let him stretch his legs.

Honestly, I suppose you couldn't call it a store. It was more of a roadside shack that sold junk. I followed Brian over to the man leading Obama. The man smiled at us. "I bet you're here for the boxers!" he said a little too cheerfully for my liking.

Brian and I both nodded. Obama started grazing on a patch of grass nearby.

"Well, I've only got one pair left," he informed us, a dick faced grin on his face.

The two of us groaned audibly. All that shit we went through and there's only one pair left. We looked at each other. Brian said, "Well, I think I should get them. I did find the flier after all."

I glared at him. "I did most of the work and paid for the car!"

Brian rolled his eyes and yelled, "Yeah, but we wouldn't have had so much work if you hadn't suggested taking the damn llama!"

I heard the vendor laugh at our argument and shot daggers at him with my eyes. He didn't care course.

I turned back to Brian to argue again, but I was interrupted by a shriek of pain and the sound of crackling wood. We turned to the source and saw the weirdest thing we had seen the whole trip. Obama was breathing fire out of his mouth at the man's stall, catching him and it on fire. I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

Finally, Obama closed his mouth and, as if nothing had happened, went back to grazing.

Brian and I stared at the charred remains, awe and disappointment written on our faces. We just did all that shit to have the prized boxers burned in front of our eyes....by a llama.

I looked over at Brian and we both began howling with laughter and ended up on the ground. This whole experience has been the craziest thing I'm sure either of us have encountered in our lives and I'm sure we'll never forget it