Dandy Derald and the Feisty Kangaroo

The following was composed by one Cordell Monson, and is officially the funniest thing I've ever read:

Our story begins deep in the heart of Texas, where the water runs slowly and the women like big belt buckles. The most unlikely of the likeliest characters, Dandy Derald, opens his big greenish brown eyes as if to welcome in the new morning. Sighing slowing and with about as much emotion as a long horn steer mounting his mate, Dandy touched his head and pondered the emotions encompassing cattle breeding. "What a far out, hip-ass dream I had," thought Dandy. "I adore mi amore....," his voice trailing off into the winter air as a portable shooting gallery caught his inexperienced eye. Now, Dandy Derald had two eyes, don't misbehave, but only one could be said to have experience. When Dandy was a mere child, but not as mere as you or I, he closed one of his eyes and did not reopen it for many years. As a matter of fact, I'd like to point out that it had been many years since Dandy had experienced the joys of bi ocular vision and the technological advances therein. "A portable shooting gallery!" exclaimed Dandy, for he had never seen one of the fascinations before.... Not with both eyes anyway, due to the reasons I've already mentioned and feel I have gone above and beyond the call of duty to clarify.

Dandy Derald reached for his six foot sailor, a dude he really hated, and headed for the door. The music was playing and the lights were getting brighter, as they do whenever a six foot sailor is within armslength. As the dust began to settle behind the now "long gone" portable shooting gallery, Dandy felt a gentile tapping on his delicate shoulder. He spun around with the grace only his aerodynamic ass would allow and the demeanor any mother could, but never would, fall in love with. "Hark ye, Harold Angel," Dandy sneered. "You'd best be praying for thine birthday back." Harold Angel had lost hs birthday within two days of Dandy shutting his eye. But when Dandy reopened his eye, Harold's birthday did not return. Yeah, I know, so fucking weird. (I wouldn't usually write with such inexcusable profanity, but I firmly believe that in this instance it is proper and I have deemed it profound. Thank you.) "No." said Harold, "I want to ask your advice."

"Well?" Dandy stated/asked.

"Well, I want to become a kangaroo..."

"You want to become a what?"

"...a professional kangaroo."

Dandy Derald thought about the ramifications of things like vacationing on a star, eating arsenic, feeling around inside of a deep fat fryer and becoming a kangaroo. Finally, he closed both eyes, folded his hands and slowly, but not too slowly, said with a quiver in his high pitched fully developed finger puppet styled voice... "Hark ye, Harold Angel. You have my blessing as long as you promise that you will be the most and the only kang