You spend your life traveling the world. Scouring the globe for that one Coke can. You spend your life searching for that can, without a single lead as to its whereabouts. You, old in age now, (bur still athletic as ever,) are about to give up. You tell your exploration crew (named The Cokesplorers) to get back aboard the ship, you're going home. Then, as you're setting sail from the docks of a Moroccan port, you see an African Warlord with an AK-47 sling over his shoulder. He's sipping a Coke. You see your name glistening on the side of the can, glistening in the African Sun. You unsheath your Katana. "We're going back, boys!" You shout. You hop overboard, onto the Moroccan soil. You run to the Warlord, snatch the can from him, and run back to your ship, dodging AK-47 fire. You've found the can. You shed a single tear. You can die in peace now.
Comments