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The suspicious-looking green van raced around the corner at better than twenty five over the posted speed limit. The driver navigated the turns and curves with reckless abandon. Ahead, he spotted a brown tow truck, along with a redneck’s dream: a red pickup truck with roof-mounted spot lights. The deafening scream of four tires filled the air as the driver tried to push the brake pedal through the floor of the green van. Moments later, he came to a rest mere centimeters from the two trucks.

The green van bounced on its tires as he spoke. “Hi, I’m purple van!”

The brown tow truck bounced as he replied, “You not purple! You green.”

The green van bounced as each syllable was spoke. “Oh, I’m sorry. Hi, I’m blue van.”

“You not BLUUUUUUUUUUE!” the red truck exclaimed, laughing.

By the normal observing eye, such an exchange would seem odd, but this was normal life in the lawless town of Road Rug, in the climate-controlled state of Living Room, Indiana. In such a place as this, it’s not strange at all to see a dog, 20 times larger than any of the vehicles on the street, walk across the entire town in less than two seconds. It’s equally normal for plastic Lego blocks to rain from the sky upon the townspeople. On at least on occasion, yellow car witnessed a blue car hover from the ground then fly away to the uninhabited town of Windowsill. Yep, normal life around these parts.

The giant hand bounced the green van again as the voice spoke, “What do you mean I’m not blue!? I’m blue with pink stripes!”

The hand controlling the red truck, massive compared to the truck, but tiny compared to the giant hand animating the van, bounced up and down. “No *laugh* you *laugh* not *laugh*!!”

It’s been a very satisfying evening in House. Red truck, brown tow truck, green van, Stinky, Bus, and Bulldozer destroyed everything within the borders of Road Rug. Not a single person dared to leave their houses, or enter the city limits from outside the town. It was a very satisfying evening indeed.

But then something strange happened. Green van – the happily bouncing van that spoke to other vehicles – broke the rules of playtime etiquette. Green van drove close to the smaller giant and spoke directly to him.

“Tyler, what color are you?”

The little giant looked confused. His hands pulled away from red truck and brown tow truck, and rested in his lap. He looked for a few moments at the green van, then towards the giant controlling it.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“Nothing?” the giant questioned.

“Yeah. I not have a color. I no color.”

The giant scrambled to his knees. “What do you mean you don’t have a color?!?!?!”

A small smile formed on Tyler’s mouth. “You not have a color EITHER!” He yelled the last word.

The giant sprang forward and tackled Tyler. As Tyler screamed for help and mercy, the giant tickled him while yelling “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE A COLOR!?!?!!?!”

“STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!!!”

The giant paused. “What?”

Through an enormous grin, he answered, “I farted on you.”

“WHAT?!?!?!” The giant began tickling him again. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU FARTED ON ME?!?!?!?”

“STOP STOP STOP! I have to go pee!!!”

Lucky little punk.

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