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radioactive talking parrot
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one day in the quiet town of *Classified Information* a small boy by the name of *Classified Information* revieved a postcard. On the postcard was only his name,*Classified Information*, and nothing else. For years *Classified Information* wondered where that postcard had come from and how it got to a small town like *Classified Information*. When *Classified Information* was growing old and took ill he recieved a visit from a man. The man said,"Hello *Classified Information* where's my damn postscard?" *Classified Information* took one look at the desk where the postcard sat and died without telling the man where the postcard was. It of course was laying as clear as day right infront of his face.
Why the heck a blank postcard was so important was beyond me...
I'm sure it would have been much more useful if *Classified Information*'s little sister hadn't poured white out on it first...
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020731
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