Bluff called...


So Mr. Will Turner shows up at Wendy's after concealing himself on his voyage in the pant pocket of my youngest son. He grabs a french fry and threatens us for safe passage in his quest for his true love, Elizabeth Swann. I call his bluff...and put him in my pocket, now headed towards an uncertain fate. I knew he wouldn't throw the fry. I correctly called his bluff. Jack Sparrow surely would have thrown it, but not Turner. Sure, Jack would have thrown it and scuttled away to dive and disappear into the Frosty Machine, but he would have thrown it nonetheless. Ms. Swann should have followed her heart...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love...

Love...

Kane Po...