silly string
Created | Updated Apr 3, 2002
seems odd that anyone would want to make "canned string". it's not even strong enough to hold anything you tie it to. kinda tastes funny too, almost like those "peanuts" they use in packing things to send far away. why are they called peanuts when there made of styrofoam and aren't even shaped like 'em? i donno, it's your planet. anyway, this string substance is crammed into a can with a propellant gas so that when some one (or thing) touches the pressure sensitive nozzle a slimy/rubbery "string" shoots out and clings to any nearby surface with in two feet. it's purpose is totally unknown, though it has been suspected to have been brought to this planet by other beings as part of a technology exchange program. apparently, these beings are of a higher intelligence, this being proven by the following:
two men in black suits stand beside the only entryway to the small, not very well lit room.
in a small wooden chair sits a small green skin-toned being wearing a flowing robe of silver clasping an aerosol can between his suction cupped fingers. a tall man wearing black fatigues with the letters NSA written on the front takes a puff from his cigarette, drops it, and smashes out its life with his foot before advancing to the seated creature.
nsa agent: "ok, mister extra terrestrial. what superior technology have you brought to exchange with us?"
alien: ”rposepu I on meco sha ringba ti sag ndfi opelledpr ew. ringst rtma ni ‘e a ickqu nac. lacticga ew a undfo fo ti elfsh sidingre.”
[ for those of you who cannot speak ka’ fooniese, his reply translates to:
"i come baring gas propelled string in a can. we found it residing on the shelf of a galactic quick ‘e mart. we find it has no purpose”]
the agent scratches his head in confusion. he turns to the two men by the door who both shrug. one lifts his left sleeve to his mouth and in twenty minutes, two lab techs. appear and hookup a small machine to the green creatures head effectively allowing the two beings to communicate better.
nsa agent: ”again what have you brought?”
alien: “ringst nnedca.”
translator: “this is an bio-attomic death synthesizer, with it I can cleanse this entire planet of you earthlings and leave only a minty fresh scent.”
nsa agent:” so...ah...how does it work?”
the alien presses the nozzle and sprays the agent in the face. he falls to his knees grasping his face and screams “MY GOD! THE PAIN! THE HORROR! THE...wait a minute! that didn’t even hurt.” but before he could come to terms with his not dying, the two men in black jumped into action and ran toward the little green man who was immediately beamed back to his starship with a copy of the blueprints for earth's military defense systems. the discarded can was sent to mettal and is now mass produced as “silly string”.
two men in black suits stand beside the only entryway to the small, not very well lit room.
in a small wooden chair sits a small green skin-toned being wearing a flowing robe of silver clasping an aerosol can between his suction cupped fingers. a tall man wearing black fatigues with the letters NSA written on the front takes a puff from his cigarette, drops it, and smashes out its life with his foot before advancing to the seated creature.
nsa agent: "ok, mister extra terrestrial. what superior technology have you brought to exchange with us?"
alien: ”rposepu I on meco sha ringba ti sag ndfi opelledpr ew. ringst rtma ni ‘e a ickqu nac. lacticga ew a undfo fo ti elfsh sidingre.”
[ for those of you who cannot speak ka’ fooniese, his reply translates to:
"i come baring gas propelled string in a can. we found it residing on the shelf of a galactic quick ‘e mart. we find it has no purpose”]
the agent scratches his head in confusion. he turns to the two men by the door who both shrug. one lifts his left sleeve to his mouth and in twenty minutes, two lab techs. appear and hookup a small machine to the green creatures head effectively allowing the two beings to communicate better.
nsa agent: ”again what have you brought?”
alien: “ringst nnedca.”
translator: “this is an bio-attomic death synthesizer, with it I can cleanse this entire planet of you earthlings and leave only a minty fresh scent.”
nsa agent:” so...ah...how does it work?”
the alien presses the nozzle and sprays the agent in the face. he falls to his knees grasping his face and screams “MY GOD! THE PAIN! THE HORROR! THE...wait a minute! that didn’t even hurt.” but before he could come to terms with his not dying, the two men in black jumped into action and ran toward the little green man who was immediately beamed back to his starship with a copy of the blueprints for earth's military defense systems. the discarded can was sent to mettal and is now mass produced as “silly string”.
