a man frozen in the crevice
of an iceberg
around the north pole.
he's been there
for over a ten thousand years,
which they
can tell from the id's
in his wallet,
and his mastodon vest
and hat.
his beard is caked in ice,
and his extremities are blue.
carefully they carry
him back to the Quonset
hut and slowly defrost him
by the fireplace.
they lie him down on the couch
and take his knee high
leather boots off.
the cook makes him a steak
dinner and hot bowl of
chicken soup.
finally he comes around
and sits up,
getting the cricks out of his
neck, stretching his long
arms and legs.
whew, he says. what the hell.
how long have i been out?
all i remember is this woman
was chasing me,
trying to hit me over the head
with a frying pan
because i kissed her sister.
then he starts eating,
and asking for the chef.
a little too much salt he says.
can i send this back?
and a little ketchup, if you
have it.
so tell me, everyone, what'd i miss?
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