We will come to embrace everything we have ever hated, renounce everything we have ever loved, will have turned our every last belief upside down. And yet we'll no doubt still be prattling on--even as they lower our coffin into the earth--about the truth.
The biggest man in Littlestown during our time had to be Tiny, whose moniker obeyed the Inverse Rule of Nicknames, and whom we never saw rise from his oversized seat in a room filled with him at the Littlestown Hardware and Foundry. The second biggest was probably Jumbo Harner, who drove an egg truck. No. 3 might have been Dwight Dailey, although it's possible his body just looked enormous in comparison to his tiny head. We've never seen such a head-body mismatch our whole lives. It's like he tore off his regular head one night, ran outside, ripped a smaller head off somebody else, and put it on. As for Tiny, he may have been the most obese figure in L-town Annals, but he wasn't the laziest. That award would have to go to the unknown skinny fella who used to play softball for the Alpha Fire Company team. We saw him stretch a homer into a double one time, and he was so disconsolate at having to actually stand out there on second base that he called time out and had a kid run him out his cigarette and beer. He's been our hero ever since.
Judging by the headlines we encountered. Our personal favorites were "Pretty Maiden's Finger Starts Big Explosion" and "Chimpanzee Killed by Lack of Cigarettes," with an honorable mention going to "King of Yap's Fortune Divided Between Many Wives."
Reading papers from 1905. That might seem like a waste of time to you, but we clipped a whole lot of coupons. Wasn't easy, either, seeing as how the papers are on microfilm. Thank god for our tiny scissors!