You know that thing, where a group of ravens steal a hunk of smoked pork and then proceed to repeatedly drop it on your car in order to break it up into more palatable pieces?
I hate when they do that; don’t you?
To answer some of the questions I’ve received about this:
- I have no idea where the pork came from. In fact, I don’t even know if it’s pork.
- Luckily, no dents.
- Yes, I registered scorn with the ravens: I shook my fists at them and referred to them in very disparaging terms.