User:DiZ/The Legend of Ron and the Cheeseburger

For Sliferjam's "Annual" Contest"

Chapter One

Our story begins in the remote jungles of Indonesia. As Ron Finkelman, 32, searched the ground with a trained eye, he could not shake the feeling that that cheeseburger stand in Surakarta was not of completely legitimate health grade. Already he could taste the intoxicating stench of low-fat Kraft singles and week-old sourdough once more, and for a moment, he threw up in his mouth. Just a little.

But something about this jungle did not feel right. It could have been the wooden signs nailed to every tree with messages like "BEWARE" or "DEATH UP AHEAD", or "HELL IF WE LET ANOTHER CRACKER TAKE OUR LAND", which completely baffled Ron, as he hadn't seen another cracker in days. Regardless, he left the clearing without so much as a clue to the ancient ruins' location.

Now, Ron was not the kind of person to just give up when things didn't go his way, but this whole temple business had been pinching his balls for the last three months, and frankly, he didn't know how much more he could take of his annoying guide. His name was Puupa, and he was a native, with a musty smell about him typical of most foreigners, and quite possibly gay, judging by the way he looked at Ron's penis while the two bathed in the river. Puupa wore a blue scarf which he absolutely insisted was seafoam green, and would quite often stop in the middle of the path to check his mascara. He claimed it kept the bugs away. Ron didn't buy it, not any more than he bought the little asshole's fake accent. Wanted to shoot the bastard, but he left his Remington in the plane, and he didn't want to waste the three bullets he had left on some guy with a seafoam scarf.

The rainforest was silent, save for the haunting cries of an occasional hornbill in the distance, and Puupa's beating heart. I told him not to eat those damn curly fries, thought Ron. Gives him heartburn. And as Puupa reached into his purse for a bottle of Pepto Bismol, Ron could not help but wonder why they hadn't seen anything yet. I mean, who could miss a half-buried temple in the middle of an expansive wilderness stretching beyond what the eye can see?

Then they saw it.

Chapter Two

It was a temple, built on the edge of a roaring waterfall. The noise was unbearable. Ron could hardly concentrate with all the ruckus.

"Hey waterfall!" Ron yelled.
Nothing.
"Hey asshole!" Again, the waterfall continued. "Shut the fuck up, I'm trying to find this goddamned temple and you're really distracting me!"
The waterfall did not respond.
"Hey, buddy, I'm talking to you! Yeah, you. We're trying to find a temple here!"
No response.
"That's it, this guy's asking for it."
"Ooh, Boss, can I give it to him?" asked Puupa in a heavily queer manner.
"No, Puupa, you cannot pleasure the waterfall." Puupa looked downcast. "Quick, I have an idea! Give me your scarf, Puupa!"
"Are you kidding!? This is chiffron, Italian."
"Puupa! Give me your scarf or I'm taking away your iPod!"
"But Boss, you know I can't live without my Cher..."
"Fuck Cher, I need to get into this temple, and I can't do that if this damn waterfall keeps distracting me wiht his rather noisy romping about. Now give me your scarf."

And so, puupa gave Ron his seafoam green chiffron scarf.