It was a dark and December night, and Whitey was bored. He deleted all traces of his existence from Tripod, and wanted
to start a new life. "I'm tired of being a gangsta," he said, "I want to put that life behind me. Everyone looks down on me
and I'm always getting arrested."
Determined to stop being a gangsta, Whitey set out to the vast lands of his internet service provider. He ventured over
to tripod.com, where he deleted his past identity.
"There can't be anything left behind!" he exclaimed. He thought he'd gotten rid of it all, but alas, there was one who
remained...
This interview was a dangerous one. Whitey was hell-bent on deleting it. But when he tried, the interview bitch-slapped
him in the fucking face and told him to have sex with a mountain goat. Only then could he possess the knowledge to delete
the interview from his Tripod account, and be forever clean of his past life.
There is no end to this story. Whitey traveled high and low searching for a mountain goat ripe for the sex-having-with.
He found one so plump and juicy it was calling for a filling. But when it got right down to it, Whitey decided that he would
rather not have sex with the mountain goat. Because that is just fucking sick.
Thus, he must now live a life haunted by the spirits of the interviews of his past; forever wondering what could or could
not have been.
