A while back, I was trippin' on some high powered blotter acid when I went into a 7-11 to buy some whip cream (don't ask why.) Anyways, I am standing there, talking with this pink leopard who is wearing a Who Farted T-shirt, when the dude behind the counter started asking if I was ready to make my purchase. I told him I would be there in a minute or so, I am trying to learn about the plight of the African Pygmy tribe that were beaten to death with black frisbees. Next thing I know I see the fucking Michelin Tire Man come into the 7-11 and start slapping the shit out of the leopard for stealing his clothes. Things started getting violent, so I felt it was time to leave. I grabbed my five canisters of whip cream and headed to the counter, telling the clerk he may want to hurry, I think some rubber is going to be shed. He gave me this weird look, and I think it was because he was standing in a huge, steaming pile of Hippo shit. I left 7-11 that night vowing to never return. What kind of fucked up place allows a huge stinking pile of Hippo shit to just sit on the floor. That's just weird.