“Hey, Mac! Is that a genuine Ford trash truck sitting next to you?” I inquired.
“Yeah, I guess so, why do you want to know?”
“Well, because I am interested in purchasing one” I said.
“But what about me, I’m a Mack Truck? Im a much better brand and in better shape!” Replied the Mack in an agitated voice. “Just look at my blue paint and my long flat bed. It wouldn’t take much to fix me up again.” He was getting even more annoyed now and though it seemed impossible, I thought he was jealous. “I’m too young to be put out to pasture! Buy me!”
“I guess maybe I could use you instead. The trash truck was going to be a carnival spinning barrel ride, but maybe I can attach a ride to your flat bed.” I pondered.
“Are little kids with sticky hands going to be on the ride, eating popcorn and spilling soda and laughing and screaming,” Mac questioned.
“Yes, that’s right! Won’t it be a rewarding experience?” I smiled, happy to be able to fulfill his dreams.
“Heck no, I don’t want sticky, crying kids crawling all over me. Please, please, please, take the Ford! He actually likes kids!”
So I did!
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