| We arrived all excited to start our search for buried treasures. First we set up out tents and dug latrines into which to put the daily entries, which should include date, grid coordinates, name of the person who found it, and a description of ancient Babylonian bones with the addition of old photos of amazingly preserved pies! "Do you think these are still any good?" one student asked. "I don't know, let's taste one and see. Yummy! They are still good after all these years! Give one to the director. Here, put this one in his pocket!" I considered that, but decided it would be better to just hand it to him and let him put it in his pipe and smoke it. He doesn't deserve half the credit he's getting on this dig, and I intend to catalog every single piece of bone that I can find unlike the other slacker diggers who every day haphazardly would just come along, completely disregarding any scholarly integrity, and REFILL the holes with dirt from various random locations , because we couldn't seem to find a single location that met all our criteria for what we had in mind for the recruitment ad. We called the photographer over to get his opinion of the background, and then we set up the .50-caliber machine guns to defend our site from looters. Rare artifacts can fetch a healthy price on the black market, just like scarred old remnants of ancient civilizations. Everywhere was dust. Dust, dust, dust! My hair was matted with mud and straw. We started carefully cleaning it, and were surprised to discover that under the dirt was the wrapper from my Brown Mule. Oh I could be in big trouble!
I quickly stuck it into my hat. No one would find it there. Nonchalantly, I disassembled the fallacious evolution display with a sledgehammer. Then I took it and gingerly brushed away the centuries of dust to discover that there in my own hand I held the actual genuine ignition key that went to the landscaper's riding lawnmower. "How did this get in here?" I exclaimed. "The sites contaminated, and we ourselves slowly dying from some unknown ancient curse, it was only a matter of time before we and all our work disintegrated back into ancient history. We did know for sure however that neanderthals did NOT eat Chicken McNuggets. And yet, here are the little yellow wrappers!" There was a long, tense silence, until finally someone said, "Well, I'm hungry. Who's up for some Mickie D's?" THE END! |