Funny story

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It was a typical Friday afternoon when I found myself staring at a giant inflatable unicorn in my backyard. How did I get here, you ask? Well, let me explain.

Earlier that day, my best friend Tim had texted me, asking if I wanted to go to a "surprise adventure." Naturally, I was suspicious. Tim had a reputation for tricking me into bizarre activities, from singing karaoke in a parking lot at 2 AM to getting locked in a mysterious room with nothing but a rubber chicken and a flashlight. But, I reluctantly agreed, thinking it might be something mildly fun, like a movie or maybe a cool hike.

I should have known better.

When I showed up at Tim’s house, he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, holding a large package in his hands. "Surprise!" he exclaimed, presenting me with what appeared to be… an inflatable unicorn.

"Tim, you’ve got to be kidding me," I said, my eyebrows practically in my hairline. "Is this the adventure?"

"Yes!" he cheered. "We’re going to float down the river!"

I stared at the unicorn, its bright pink mane and sparkling horn somehow more unsettling than magical. "You’re telling me we’re going to float down a river… on this?"

"Exactly!" Tim’s excitement was contagious, despite my better judgment. "Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan."

Fast forward two hours later, and I found myself at the riverbank, where Tim had inflated the unicorn. I sat on it, half-expecting it to deflate under the weight of my skepticism. But no, it was sturdy—too sturdy.

Tim, ever the optimist, was already in his own unicorn. We pushed off into the river, the current lazily drifting us forward. For the first 15 minutes, it was surprisingly calm. We laughed, made jokes, and floated like a couple of very confused sea creatures.

But then, something unexpected happened: the wind picked up, and suddenly, we were at the mercy of the river’s current. The inflatable unicorns, once so cheerful and whimsical, were now fighting a losing battle against the water. Tim’s unicorn veered into a patch of bushes. My unicorn—despite my best efforts—started drifting toward a group of ducks who were clearly not impressed by my presence.

"Uh, Tim?" I called out. "I think the unicorn’s trying to attack the ducks!"

"I’m stuck!" Tim shouted from behind a tree branch. "Help!"

I paddled over, my unicorn bouncing awkwardly on the water, my arms flailing like an octopus trying to fight off a sea monster. I grabbed Tim’s inflatable, but we both ended up tangled in the bushes, half-submerged in the water, and laughing hysterically. Somehow, we managed to right the unicorns, but the river was having none of it. We were stuck in the middle of the current, and no amount of paddling could change that.

By the time we finally made it to the shore, it was clear we had become the spectacle of the day. A family of picnickers looked on, trying to suppress their laughter, as we limped out of the river, soaking wet and defeated by inflatable unicorns.

"Well, that was a success," Tim said, trying to keep a straight face.

I stared at the unicorn. "Yeah, sure, if your idea of success involves nearly drowning in a river while fighting off ducks and twigs."

But despite the chaos and humiliation, I couldn’t help but laugh. In the end, it was the kind of absurd adventure only Tim could pull off—and, surprisingly, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Sometimes, it’s the ridiculous moments that make the best memories. And let’s be honest, when else would I get to say I almost drowned on an inflatable unicorn?