Review: Being too dry

Sammy Lynn and Caranthope, her Native American Guide who can communicate with nature, are walking down the forest by the beach. Suddenly- the earth shifts and they are sucked down beneath the ground. They awake and they are completely dry.

"Caranth! I can't feel my eyes" shouted Sammy Lynn. Caranthope was slow to get up as he simultaneously assessed the situation. He mouth stuck together as he tried to talk.

"It's dry... too dry," the guide said, "Your eyes are mostly water and they are drying out. Quick- squint!"

"Carantho! My skin it feels less like it usually does!" Sammy Lynn was rubbing her arms up and down.

"Like I said dry, ok? Try, I dunno, taking off our clothes." Caranthope and Sammy Lynn both began undressing.

"CARANTHOPE!" a stream of confusion came from Sammy Lynn. "You're boner! Why would you ask me disrobe if you knew you were to have that boner for me? It is much too dry for my vagina to moisten!"

The Native paused, his mouth agape with a traffic jam of the right thing to say. The dryness made his boner seem more rugged, like a tool a cowboy would use or a middle eastern woodwind. Just then his mouth felt like he had just plopped in a tablespoon of sand. Caranthope's mouth then began to slowly deteriorate into sand. The dust crawled up his face and down his spine, spreading to the rest of his body. Her native guide, the person who shared many an adventure with Sammy Lynn, the one who has been by her side ever since Sammy Lynn's father saved Caranthope by letting the lion eat his parents instead, the one who served without complaint even when Sammy Lynn requested abortion after abortion for the two's many love children... that man was now nothing but a pile of dark red dust in an underground cave to dry to comprehend.

Sammy Lynn was calm. She walked over to the dust pile. She put her hand in it. She spread it around. She organized it into 2 separate lines. With a tear in her eye- she snorted the remains. Her eyes tuned into a series of hypotnic spins and exclamation points as her whole body became a babble. The dust pile of former Native American guide took its effect as Sammy Lynn turned into a shape of a human rocket and sparks shot out of her feet- rising up out of the underground dry cave, above the tree tops, and into the afternoon sky. BOOM! A light of fireworks across the sky, "HAPPY COLUMBUS DAY" in shimmering red sparkles.