Guacamole

You are walking down a street.

Everyone you meet has the head of a fish. They all have an increasing appetite for jellybeans.

Then,

THEN,

THEN

ALL OF A SUDDEN A METEOR!

A GUACAMETEOR!!!

GUACAMOLE!
QUITE UNHOLY!
ON THE FISH HEADS! HAS STRUCK!
QUITE TOASTY!
FROM ITS ORBIT INTO EARTH! *bum bum bum*
THE MOVIES WILL USE FOLEY!
TO RECREATE THE MOOSHING GOOSHING SOUND OF THREE TONS OF GUACAMOLE!

Out of that big green mush of death, you see a silhouette of a chair. You know that can't possibly have happened, but hey, you're shoulder deep in guacamole, down the street. So you reach for a handle, maybe sympathy has overwrought your senses but, yes, it's there, an unfoldable plastic chair, smeared in green.

CHARLIE SHEEN!

jumps in and out,

he's not a fan of this much guacamole. He prefers it in a bowl.

BUT WAIT!

THE CHAIR!

It exists,

truly,

truly, as much as the big guacameteor it inhabits, and YOU SEE! (with your nose, duh)

A SINGLE SURVIVING CHAIR!

THE GUACAPOCALYPSE HAS NOW BECOME A TALE OF BEING STRANDED WITH GUACAPOCALYPSO! Heh? No?

THIS CHAIR SPEAKS WORDS YOU CANNOT HEAR, AND MOVES IN WAYS YOU CANNOT SEE.

this chair speaks words you cannot hear, and moves in ways you cannot see.

You..... slowly....... sink.