You know, there are few things in this world that really weird me out, but one of them is the shape of the state of Florida.
It's shaped like a gun.
Pew pew, suckas.
Wait, you don't see it? Well I know it's a little disproportionate, but you got the handle at the bottom, the barrel up top and then a little sight on top of the barrel.
There's even a trigger there, you just can't see it because it's depressed. Let me pull it out for you.
Do you see it now?
It's the kind of pistol you'd keep under your pillow if you were James Bond.
Florida PPK, 7.65 millimetre. Only three men I know use such a gun.
I mean, what state in their right mind would draw their boundaries in the shape of a gun? It's not so much of a problem except that that gun is perpetually pointed at the rest of the United States. It's a little bit unnerving.
"Now Florida, let's not do anything too hasty.
We don't want any trouble."
On top of that Florida's got an attitude. It should be evidence enough that Florida spawned Shannon Bream.
Instead of being merely like "You guys mess with me, and you're dead," it's more like "Are you guys messing with me? Huh? Say what again, sucka! I dare you! I double dare you!"
Florida: Samuel L. Jackson's weapon of choice.
Let me tell you a little story.
A long time ago, in a town within one light-second of my current location, I had a sleep-over with some friends.
Now this group of friends consisted of 2 innocent little suckers,
and 2 other innocent little suckers who thought they were legitimate pranksters.
The two innocent suckers were also the kind of kids who never stayed up late. Usually in a sleep-over like this, the wannabe pranksters would keep the innocent suckers up by talking. The innocent suckers didn't care though, because it was fun to laugh into the night.
This time was different. The wannabe pranksters were quiet.
Too quiet.
One of the two innocent suckers went to sleep immediately on the top bunk of the bunkbed. The second one thought something was up, and only pretended to fall asleep. It wasn't long before the second innocent sucker heard suppressed giggling from the wannabe pranksters.
The wannabe pranksters got up and left the room. The paranoid innocent sucker now knew that something was up. He peeked outside the room and determined that the wannabe pranksters were gathering shaving cream. He knew this prank. It was a classic. And he knew how to thwart it. He climbed back into bed and waited silently.
When the two pranksters came back into the room, he listened carefully to figure out where they are. They were coming for him. He could hear the suppressed giggles. He could tell that their hands were going for his hand.
He groaned as if in his sleep and rolled over onto his stomach
The pranksters fell silent.
It took all his willpower not to burst out laughing and keep breathing slowly as if he was asleep.
He heard their questioning murmurs.
"Should we go for the top?"
"Maybe we could flip him over carefully?"
Then silence.
The paranoid sucker waited a minute or two and rolled to face the ceiling.
There were more questioning murmurs, and then some silence.
He knew he'd have to time this perfectly.
Their hands came for his again.
He swiftly pulled the cover up to his head and rolled towards them, knocking the shaving cream filled hand of one prankster into the face of the other.
There was a moment of silence.
Then suppressed giggling from the first prankster, and a "What the heck!" from the second shortly afterward.
At that moment, the paranoid little sucker (which is me, in case you hadn't guessed that yet) felt victorious.
I knew I had bested them, and could rest well that night. I was feeling pretty triumphant at that point, and I didn't really feel the need to suppress laughter.
"Screw this, dude," said the second prankster. "We'll get him tomorrow morning. Florida style."
Florida style.
The second prankster agreed and they both left the room again, probably to get rid of the shaving cream.
Florida style. My feelings of triumph sank into my stomach and quickly became something of puzzled apprehension.
What could Florida style possibly mean?
The fact that the two pranksters fell asleep immediately and very soundly after returning to their airbed did nothing to ease my apprehension. What could they have planned? They didn't set up anything did they? Florida style didn't seem related to any kind of prank I had heard of before.
I must have spent about half the remainder of the night simultaneously wondering what Florida style could mean and making sure that the two pranksters weren't going to get up and do anything else.
This was not a good thing, because I was one of those wimpy kids who needed their 10 hours, and the plan was to go play tennis at the park promptly at 9 in the morning.
I woke up suddenly at 8 realizing that the room was empty.
"Shoot!" I thought. "Now I've given them time to set up!"
I could hear the sounds of laughter and breakfast from down the hall, so I rushed to the bathroom. I had to finish brushing as quickly as possible. so that whatever their plan was, I could foil it. Still, I'm a careful brusher. I've never had a cavity in my life. I quickly and carefully brushed all of my teeth, and then my tongue.
The breakfast chatter had fallen silent at this point, so I was panicking.
I quickly filled up a cup with mouthwash so I could gargle and get out of there.
Somehow, be it sleep deprivation, my haste, or some combination of the two, it escaped my attention that the mouthwash was orange.
Orange juice.
Sunny delight, Florida style.
Florida style.
A bad drink to begin with, but the ABSOLUTE worst possible thing to put in your mouth right after brushing.
Rarity has clearly experienced this before.
My immediate reaction was to spray the contents of my mouth very loudly all over the bathroom mirror.
The two pranksters AND an innocent little Judas had all sneaked down the hallway to watch the hilarity ensue.
"I can't believe that worked!"
Yeah, I couldn't believe it worked either. You'd have to be an idiot to come up with that prank, and about 20% more of an idiot to fall for it. Unfortunately, both prerequisites were met.
I spent the rest of the next five minutes cleaning the bathroom, and the rest of the next day silently fuming.
Florida style.
Not even James Bond would have survived that.
Pierce Brosnan is about to be a little shaken himself by this unstirred concoction.
Florida'll be the end of me you guys. I'm telling you. I'm onto it now, and it knows that.
And not even photoshop will be able to save me then.
