Finally, our duo arrived in the cowboy capital of the west, the town of Ogallala, Nebraska! using only their sense of smell, the two turned out their headlights and coasted into town, finding their way to this quaint little gingerbread house made entirely of sugar and spice.
Inside, they were met by an amiable woman whom Kevin identified as his grandmother, and not an imposter who had comandeered the gingerbread house for the purpose of roasting young children who went astray in the woods. (and by woods I mean the vast plains of corn fields of the midwest).
The woman inside agreed to put them up for a few days, and even teach them how to play dominoes if, in exchange, they were willing to help her eat some of the food she had in her refrigerator. The two happily agreed to this deal. The woman in the gingerbread house said she would even throw in a trip to a poison peanut butter pit in her warp car.
Tasha, attempting to avoid falling into the poison peanut butter by balancing on a cable over an open pit.
Kevin, posing for the graduation picture he never took, leaning picturesquely against the trunk of a wild tree he found while visiting the peanut butter pits.
Kevin's Grandmother, preparing to put her car into warp mode to return to the gingerbread house from the poison peanut butter pits.
Tasha, as the car begins to accelerate to warp speed.
Kevin, as the G-forces distort his face and his grandmother puts the pedal to the metal.
Although the house has never been used in the culinary preparation of the local youth, they are attracted to the house nonetheless, and are often quite demanding of visitors, requiring them to perform such humiliating acts as seen here.
you can't shake a stone at a nebraska sunrise... err, throw a fist... uhhh...
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