One time, a moose bit my sister.
Then years later, i was at a zoo in Minnesota or North Dakota or one of those snowy wasteland states. I remember i had gone to this zoo for their world famous moose enclosure, which was said to be one of the top two or three moose enclosures in the world. I was sort of absent mindedly perusing the brochure they i had gotten when i paid my admittance, titled Moose Facts: 20 Things That We Betcha Didnt Know About Mooses, Eh? Now that i think about it, it was probably in Canada. And then all of a sudden, there he was. The moose that had bit my sister.
Instantly i was transported back to that fateful day. And the rage welled up. And i just couldnt let it be.
“Hey, you. Moose. You are the moose that once bit my sister,” I shouted.
The other moose enthusiasts were all startled. But i was too far gone to care.
“You moose…or should i say hey fattest member of the deer family…why dont you take your broad palmate antlers and go back to where you belong, namely the wild forests of Canada, New England, Alaska, the Baltic states, or Russia, where you’ll live out your days in lonely solitude, since mooses typically do not form herds.”
And then i texted my sister, and told her how i had gotten revenge for her, and she said, “Dude that was like 30 years ago, when i was 7. And it wasnt really a moose, it was that kid from next door in a Bullwinkle halloween costume. You need help Thep. Seriously.”
And then she hung up on me.