Gamer's Stairwell Aficionado
This stairwell seemingly ascending to Heaven appeared before me as I was walking along the beach, listening to Taylor Swift's boy woes via song.
Sure, it's long, but length isn't everything. The question is: can it withstand the weight of my whelming girth? The answer is yes. These stairs wholly embrace me and ask for seconds.
In a couple decades, this whole interstellar area will be taken over by Mike Pence and the American Space Force i.e. Master Chief-wannabe crayon-eaters riding domesticated Squisherz into battle against the Area-51-powered Naruto Runners.
My Fitbit was having a field day at this point. I can't wait to rub my step count in Bobby Warner's dumb face, win the office-wide fitness challenge contest, and claim the Keurig and month supply of Granny Cream 1st place prize.
I barfed, and it perpetually sloshed down every step like an unhindered, bilious slinky.
I dislike kids, and these were no exception. It was obvious the hand rails had been molested by these babies' sticky fingers and mouths. I took the nose from one and fled the scene.
The books with wings were surprisingly majestic, but I noticed one with wings that were a bit small in comparison to the giant (hollow) book that was its body. As I got closer I saw that the book was former New Jersey Governor Chris Christie's Let Me Finish--an unpalatable anthology of the now-presidential adviser's countless dining occurrences where waiters and waitresses tried fruitlessly to take his plate before he'd licked it spotless.
I returned to the beach only to find out that Taylor Swift had released a new album with fresh tracks of heartache and break-ups. I downloaded the album, popped my earbuds back in, and resumed my walk.
This staircase gets 4 surviving Kruncher bandmates out of 5.