Stinky the Lake Monster
It’s that time of year again. The time when Stinky the Lake Monster starts to awake from his winter slumber. You never actually see Stinky, but you know he’s there. The thick stank of his surly musk engulfs all who venture too near the lake. Every breath you take becomes a chore to be dreaded, burning the lungs as it insults the pallet.
I wrote a letter to the editor about Stinky once, but they didn’t print it. Probably because I’m an atheist.
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