"Grandma, tell me a story!" I said as we huddled near the campfire.
"Alright," she said, "Once, there was a tree named Timmy, he was my best tree friend. I used to read books under him and climb all his branches."
"Where is Timmy now?" I asked.
Grandma pointed to the campfire.
Okay, so like, this kid asks his grandma for a story, right? And she tells him about her "best tree friend" named Timmy. But plot twist! Grandma points to the campfire when the kid asks where Timmy is now. Meaning she burned Timmy, her so-called "best friend," for firewood. Which is just cold, man. You know, I think you are as smart as Timmy.
