"Yay, horsey ride!" I yelled, leaping on my Uncle Harry(I was younger, this isn't a incestuous rape story)
"Well, all right." He replied, with mock annoyance.
Picking up speed, he began to run me around the house, taking the corners rather rappidly. Unfortunately, as we took the corner into the kitchen, he slipped and fell hard on the floor, sending me flying onto the soft corridor carpet.
"Are you ok?" I asked, running over to my hunched-up uncle.
"Yes... no, wait [as he tried to stand] my hip. Damn, go fetch some help!"
Unfortunately, there was only one thing we could do in the situation. Aunt Harriet fetched the shotgun from the shed.
I don't race any more, I've put on too much weight.
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