My nails. They are little buggers that won't stop growing. They've got wicked sick powers that make them grow like beanstalks. Little clear beanstalks that don't need magic beans to get going. Life's pretty good for them, except there's this outlaw that comes into town and starts pushing everybody around. His name is “The Mouth.” He's downright nasty and has no manners. He barges into town demanding everything and taking what he wants. The nails are no match against this villain. He plunders daily and leaves nothing but ruins. The nails hate the mouth. I hate the mouth.
Whenever any small town is threatened by a group of mangy rustlers, there is one man who can take them on. He's the sheriff and let me tell you, he is one badass cowboy. He's got accuracy up the wazoo and the reflexes of a lion. In my case, this would be my mind. The sheriff rides into town and notices that Beanstalk Town is messed up. He sees one of the little beanstalks all cut up. Sheriff gives little beanstalk some water from his canteen. Sadly little beanstalk's heart stops. He will grow no more, but right before his last breath he tells the Sheriff all about The Mouth. Enraged the Sheriff shouts for The Mouth at the top of his lungs.
The Mouth has just finished shooting everyone in the saloon. He hears the sheriff and guzzles down a glass of whiskey before making his way to the dusty main street.
The Mouth. The Sheriff. No one else. It's quiet and both men squint through the sunlight at each other. The Mouth starts to talk, but it's too late the Sheriff has shot him dead. This isn't fairytale land, this is real life. This is Beanstalk Town and this is their story. Deal with it.
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