Ah, death by sailboats. Well you see, my good man, since you were a young lad, you had an awe for ships of the sea. All kinds and in all styles. But best of all, you truly appreciated the sail boat. From the beginning of journeys over great waters, the sailboat has always been reliable. Yet, living in the small town you did and coming from a family of potato farmers (of which your family traded with the neighbours next door, who traded turnips - not much of an exchange if you ask me, but I won't argue), you could not yet obtain your dream of being a member of the docks. Working hard, though, you were a strong lad among the stock yards and the like. It came as no surprise, when in time, you began to work in a factory for - you better believe it - sailboats! Alas, you dreams came true! You were so exuberant with your dream come true that you slipped in one evening to admiring the towering masts and relaxed sails, the great hulls in all their painted glory. But being as excited as you were, and with all the hard work you had been doing, you exhausted yourself. Without careful thought, you carelessly leaned against the wrong support beam...it was the one holding the whole of the row up! Well, like some kind of cliche, they fell like dominoes and you became crushed. Such a sad, sad story of a lad.
Death by mini seashells!
