He had to make a name for himself.
He was strong, but not strong enough to be known for his strength.
Quick, but not quick enough either.
So he invented his signature move: ripping out his enemies’ throats until blood oozed everywhere.
That earned him his name:
The Carotid Kid.
Today, instead of a 50-word story, I offer you a 50-word song, which I composed, recorded and mixed today, all by myself.
Click the play button to hear the results:
Robots can’t play
Ukelele
Their fingers are all wrong
And they’re much too strong
They’d squeeze it too tight
Plus they can’t fly a kite
Robots can’t play
Ukelele
They don’t know ’bout melody
Mess up the harmony
They can get in the rhyth’um
But a uke isn’t a drum