Once upon a time there was a boy named Bro. Bro was on vacation with his family in Panama. The only reason he was in Panama was because his parents had failed to get his grandmother to babysit him so they could go to Atlantic City. So there Bro was, on the beach, in Panama.
Bro, over the past couple minutes, had expanded the distance between his two drunk parents and himself by crawling toward the ocean. He was nearing the waves. Then Bro stopped. He wasn't so young as to not have a fear of drowning, but he wasn't smart enough to realize that straying away from his parents was a bad idea.
Bro's parents were pretty bad people. If you or I had been a social worker, we would have snatched that kid away in an instance. However Bro didn't know any of this, he was incapable of thinking such a thought.
Eventually, Bro started building a sandcastle. Bro reached down to begin construction and as soon as he touched the sand...BOOM. A huge, glorious and detailed sandcastle exploded from the ground. Bro sat back and studied the fascinating sandcastle, proud of his work. Suddenly his grandma appeared, in the form of a ghost. Ghostma said,
"Hello Bro, I'm sorry I couldn't babysit you. You see, when your parents called and asked, I had already been dead for days, stupid people, didn't even make sure I was okay. Anyway, nice sandcastle you've got there..."
The two continued to sit and chat under the shadow cast by the amazing sandcastle when Bro began to notice it was shaking. Bro looked around to find out why his holy creation was quaking like a heretical puritan. As he looked into the distant ocean, he saw a wave, bigger than the others, causing his castle to shiver. It only took a second for the wave to reach the shore and tear his sandcastle to shreds. Bro began to cry.
As Bro was breaking down in tears his ghostma took the opportunity to comfort her leaking grandson.
"It's okay Bro, just build a new one."
What a good idea! But how would follow his last one? That one was so beautiful. Well, he might as well try. Once again Bro touched the ground, and once again a magical sandcastle appeared... And this one was even more magical.
"Look Ghostma! Look!" But ghostma was nowhere to be found. Bro looked and looked, but to no avail. What Bro didn't see, however, was his parents waking up and walking over to him. When they got to him they saw his sandcastle and were amazed. They thought to themselves,
"Our child is amazing! He can build sandcastles without tools! Let us make him an offer. We will give him chocolate and he will make us famous!!! We will have a theatre where Bro builds sandcastles and we make money!"
They presented their deal to Bro. Bro thought about it. His sandcastles were pretty amazing, and he wanted nothing more than an unlimited supply of chocolate.
"Yes. I'll do it."
So the parents built a theatre there in Panama where Bro could build sandcastles and they could make money. This lasted a couple of weeks, but soon Bro fell ill because of all the sugar. One night Bro was especially sick he began to vomit. He didn't know what to do so he went to his parents. However his parents were busy puking too, not from too much chocolate but from too much alcohol. Well those were the only people who knew the proper way to deal with vomit, so what was Bro going to do?
Suddenly ghostma was back. "You need to get out of here," she said, "Your parents are too evil for you to stay. Come back to the beach with me." So Bro headed back to the beach hand in hand with his ghostma. Once they got there, Bro began to cry because of his sins,
"I shouldn't have eaten that much chocolate! It was bad of me!"
"It's okay," said his ghostma, "Everything will be okay." But everything was not okay. As soon as the words left ghostma's mouth a giant whale-shark came up out of the water and gulped up Bro, ghostma and half the beach. As The two were sliding down the shark's throat ghostma said,
"Search your feelings Bro, you know what you have to do..." Bro looked at his ghostma, and he realized the truth. He touched some of the sand that had come with them into the mouth of the fish and made it erupt into a giant sandcastle, causing the shark to puke up everything.
On the shore once again, ghostma looked into the eyes of Bro and said, Good job my good and faithful grandson, now your wish will come true. Then ghostma, by ghostly means, proceeded to turn Bro into a sandcastle. A sandcastle better than any that had ever been made before. And there Bro sat for the rest of his days, on the beach of Panama. never again would a wave crash him down. No. Bro was finally... A real sandcastle.
