Once upon a time there was a boy named Jack. He had horrible luck and often got himself into terrible trouble. His mother died, and because he lived in the back country his father remarried the next day. Jack's step-mother hated him, with good reason. She convinced Jack's father that Jack was bad luck. They kicked him out and he went off to seek his fortune. Jack's parent's luck improved dramatically after he left.

Jack wandered south and on his way he picked up a couple of cases of moonshine whiskey. Jack kept going south until one day he tripped into a thorn bush. He got dreadful torn up while trying to get out. Eventually he succeeded and kept going south. He climbed up the Sierra Madres and fell down the other side. He just missed falling on top of a gila monster. Instead he fell into a thorn bush. Again Jack got dreadful torn up as he crawled out of the bush and luckily for him he just missed getting stung by a nest of scorpions.

After all that Jack needed a drink. So he drank a couple of bottles of whiskey. Jack staggered on south. Jack worked on a boat to cross the Panama canal. It sunk with Jack being the lone survivor.

Jack kept going south through Brazil. He fell into the Amazon river. He grabbed a log and started swimming across. A bunch of mean fish called Pirahanas started eating Jack up. He screamed a piece and whacked at the fish until he reached the other bank.

He crawled out of the water and decided he needed a drink. So he drank a couple more bottles of whiskey.

Then Jack staggered south bleeding heavily. He went stark raving mad and continued staggering until he got to Tierra del Fuego. There Jack saw something purty. He walked to the big smokin' cone and climbed up towards the orange light. The heat was intense so Jack drank more whiskey. He reached the top of the volcano. He peered over the rim and fell in. The volcano exploded and taht was the end of Jack, at least until he woke up in a fiery hell.

The End

Comments may be sent here. Constructive criticism only please.