This is too funny...I almost peed my pants...well, maybe just a trickle.
How about:
Through the haze of blurry and shadowy contours that constitutes Justin’s present ravenous state of mind, he blinks quickly to readjust his focus on Brian’s features. Glasses dangling from one hand, Brian’s panicked expression signals to Justin that he is no longer stoned, but suddenly widely responsive and awake, staring straight ahead with eyes fixated on a specific spot up ahead. Justin contemplates whether he has enough strength to simultaneously acknowledge whatever Brian is staring at, and/or start gnawing his right arm. Figuring he could take one last stab at preserving his sanity, Justin looks towards Brian’s object of interest and takes off running down the aisle like an Olympic sprinter.
She calls to him, this gray-haired lady in a blue-and-red checkered apron, like a siren’s song beckoning sea-weathered sailors to the shore, leading them to their demise. With painstaking care, she holds up her sullied offering of bounteous poison that was sure to clog arteries and pack on love handles. Her seductive eyes speak silent volumes of promise and fulfillment as a single mantra runs loops through Justin’s head.
Must…have…food…food…is…good…food is your friend…
Brian catches up to him seconds later and nervously licking his lips, soothingly calls out to Justin in evenly spaced syllables, “Justin…back away from the samples.”
no subject
How about:
Through the haze of blurry and shadowy contours that constitutes Justin’s present ravenous state of mind, he blinks quickly to readjust his focus on Brian’s features. Glasses dangling from one hand, Brian’s panicked expression signals to Justin that he is no longer stoned, but suddenly widely responsive and awake, staring straight ahead with eyes fixated on a specific spot up ahead. Justin contemplates whether he has enough strength to simultaneously acknowledge whatever Brian is staring at, and/or start gnawing his right arm. Figuring he could take one last stab at preserving his sanity, Justin looks towards Brian’s object of interest and takes off running down the aisle like an Olympic sprinter.
She calls to him, this gray-haired lady in a blue-and-red checkered apron, like a siren’s song beckoning sea-weathered sailors to the shore, leading them to their demise. With painstaking care, she holds up her sullied offering of bounteous poison that was sure to clog arteries and pack on love handles. Her seductive eyes speak silent volumes of promise and fulfillment as a single mantra runs loops through Justin’s head.
Must…have…food…food…is…good…food is your friend…
Brian catches up to him seconds later and nervously licking his lips, soothingly calls out to Justin in evenly spaced syllables, “Justin…back away from the samples.”