One day, in Weirdo Land, I was rummaging through my closet in search of “Mr. Thingy”. While I was looking I noticed a piece of chicken lying on the floor. I munched on it, thinking profound thoughts like: Chicken is really good, isn’t it? I kept looking for Mr. Thingy, and came upon an envelope clearly labeled, “TREASURE MAP”. I was just about to eat it when I suddenly realized that whatever the treasure was, it was probably
better than the map, or else why would anyone draw the map in the first place? I opened the envelope. Here is a facsimile of the map I found inside: 
I sat down and pondered. Should I go after the Chickenfat Treasure? Or should I just eat the map? I finally decided to eat it. I started to raise it towards my mouth. Suddenly, and without warning, a Freaken jumped through my window and shouted, “No no no no no no no no no no no no! You must find the treasure! Shmaaaaak!” He jumped back out the window. Maybe he is right, I thought, Maybe I should go after the Chickenfat Treasure. I decided to do it. I looked again at the map. It said I should first go to the Tallinga Poo National Monument. I got in a taxi, and immediately regretted it. The driver was a Neo-Monster.
A few decades back, some Chickenfat Monsters wanted to live in Weirdo Land, but Weirdo Land law didn’t permit it. The Chickenfat Monsters went to court, and lost seven times, always appealing. Finally, they went all the way to the Weirdo Land Supreme Court, where they threatened to eat all forty-seven of the justices if the Monsters didn’t win. They won. That famous court case known as Chickenfat Monsters vs. Weirdo Land Immigration Council (WLIM), allowed any Chickenfat Monster to travel freely through Weirdo Land, get a job, get a driver’s license, buy a house, etc. They just had to sign (or in most cases, write a big X) a little paper saying that they wouldn’t eat anybody. Most Chickenfat Monsters can’t read, but if they could , they would have ignored it anyway. Now Chickenfat Monsters roamed freely through Weirdo Land, eating people if and when they liked. They were notorious for eating people, smashing televisions with their heads, and most of all, for being atrocious drivers. They called themselves Neo-Monsters.
“Where to?!” The monster cabby growled. “Uhhhhh……..just let me out,” I said. “NO!!!” The Neo-Monster roared. I tried to get out, but the doors were locked. “WHERE TOOOO!!!!!!!???????” He/she/it screamed. I observantly watched his face slowly turn to a darker tint of green. A yellowish string of sticky saliva slithered from his very red mouth. “Um……okay. Just take me to Tallinga Poo National Monument.” The monster growled (or was it the car?) and we lurched forward with a resounding backfire.
By the time we got to Tallinga Poo, the taxi was so smashed up it didn’t even look like a taxi anymore. “We’re here,” the Monster said. I staggered out of the giant hole in the side of the car. There was Tallinga Poo, dedicated to Tallinga Fofo, the first Chachachoobie president of Weirdo Land. I looked at my map again. I now needed to go to Fusa Chalinga. But how would I get there? I would have to go around Papapapo Wall, which would put me in Narjoo Territory. Nobody wanted to go there, including me. The Narjoos stabbed peoples’ posteriors with their short spears. Within five minutes your behind would be bleeding all over the place. They call this the tenderizing process. Then they cut it off, and either boil it in a large pot or roast it on a spit. Either way, both your gluteus maximii end up in somebody’s stomach. I thought about the present situation while sitting on an enormously obese person’s head. I finally came upon the conclusion that the Freaken didn’t know what he was talking about, so I proceeded to gurgitate the map. It tasted really lousy.
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