Packing Walrus

January 9, 2011
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Susie heard a knock on the door. She put down her magazine, and went to answer it. When she opened the door, instead of a person, there was a cardboard box the size of a large coffee table crushing her welcome mat.

“Oh, this must be those antiques from Marsha!” Susie said to herself, and tried to pick up the box. It was surprisingly heavy, so she pushed it inside instead. Grabbing some scissors, she slit open the top and threw it open. Inside the box was a small walrus with little tusks the size of hotdogs.

“Hey, I’m your packing walrus,” the walrus said nonchalantly. Susie was in shock, and she just stared. “What?!” the walrus said, and Susie snapped out of her temporary trance. “Why in the world are you in my package?” Susie asked shrilly.

“I’m better for the environment than those plastic packing peanuts,” the walrus said, wiggling its way out of the box. Susie looked inside to see the shattered, broken remains of the antiques. The walrus spoke up, “Hey, you got anything to eat?”

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