(This one is dedicated to my super slick ride.)
Mr. Scooter was a very fine scooter. He scooted along with great scooting skill, and he scooted with the passion of his family's dedication to the fine art of scooting. But then one day he committed suicide by scooting in front of a speeding bus.
Many people were sad. Many people were also confused, because they had no idea how a scooter could possibly commit suicide, nor were they sure how the scooter had been alive to begin with. It was a very complicated issue.
He had a funeral with many people in attendance. Some cried. Some wailed. Some mourned in silence. Some became so enraged that they had to be restrained and taken out of the building. Others simply watched the event and wondered why an inanimate object was being treated like a real person.
They played sad music at Mr. Scooter's funeral. It was very sad, especially for the people who were actually sad. For the people were confused, it wasn't quite so sad, but they still found it sad.
After dinner, which happened after the funeral, people went back to their lives, while the children of Mr. Scooter scooted along the streets with sad scoots, for they would always miss their beloved father. This, of course, confused a lot of people, because they weren't quite sure how these miniature scooters were able to scoot along by themselves. Or cry. Or have such big, sad eyes. Or be alive in general.
Nevertheless, Mr. Scooter's wife and children were all alive through the magic of magic, and while they continued to grieve for Mr. Scooter, they lived on, scooting with great scooting skill, and scooting with the passion of their family's dedication to the fine art of scooting. And so, they continued on with the tradition of scooting, all the while confusing many people.
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