there was something about the word "danger"
that excited young neddy, made his hair stand on end. in fact, one could say that danger was his middle name, although those
close to him knew it was really alan. on the news one day, ned saw a story about four underage teenagers who illegally
drove their vehicle down the notorious websters road in templestowe, crashed into a pole and died. quite disturbingly, this
thought turned neddy on, and he thought he'd visit this street of death for himself.
it wasn't the first time websters road had taken the lives of young, drunk
adolescents and ned was excited at the prospect of visiting websters himself. you see, websters was a very very steep road,
and at its foot was a very very busy roundabout. ned, upon arriving, could see that for anyone stupid enough to drive
down it (especially when underage and drunk), death was a surity. he had brought with him his trusty and beloved tricycle,
for he thought that he could conquer websters road and live to tell the tale.
the wind in his hair, the heat in his face, ned felt ready to give websters
all he had. he looked down the steep, almost vertical, road; he looked at the many light poles with photographs and flowers
and ribbons dedicated to dead kids, and he sat on the seat of his tricycle.
as his feet left the road and rested upon the peddles, the tiny vehicle
began to move forward. the angle of the road began sharper as the peddels rotated more rapidly. ned's speed increased and
he lost his footing on the tornado-like peddles. the thin plastic of the wheels began to burn and shake uncontrollably against
the bichamin that moved lightning-fast beneath him. with a yelp, ned lost total control of his tricycle and veered off the
road onto the rough grass. ned's sweaty hands broke loose from the rusty metal handlebars and he squealed like a woman
as he headed straight for a barbed-wire fence.
the front wheel of the tricycle clipped an upturned root and ned went flying
through the air. the next thing he knew, he was in an echanting entanglement of fleshy limbs and sharp barbs.
ned kept on flying through the air, piercing it at great speed, while not
only his pants remained attached to the fence, but so too did his testicles. the flesh ripped and blooded poured as too did
poor ned's tears.
the next thing he remembered was waking up in a hosptial bed, incredible
and excrutiating pain throbbing through his crotch. he requested the doctors and nurses to give him a cast on his arm so as
to make it seem as if he had broken his arm, because he was too embarrassed to have his friends see the extent of his actual
injuries upon them visiting him in hospital.
however, when the twins visited him on his second day in hospital, they
noticed something perculiar about their friend ned. although his arm was in a cast they noticed ned always looking painfully
towards his private region. ned itched it, and blood started seeping through the thin hospital bed covers. the twins ran screaming
from the hospital room wondering why their friend was urinating blood.
eight weeks and forty-seven stitches later, and young ned was able to go
home. he was minus one testicle and everyone knew about his trip to websters road. he concluded that although he survived
to tell the story of his websters ordeal, he felt quite the fool for thinking he could take on such a powerful beast
that is websters road, and unrecommends it for anyone who thinks they too are men of steel.