So I go out to the garage today only to find Flat Stanley had been playing around the riding mower again (despite my warnings to the contrary). I’m not quite sure how he managed to turn the tractor on, engage the mower and still fall underneath; but there he was, right where the mower spat him out with his bloody stump of a leg beside him.
I’d like to first mention that I did try to save him. When I realized that he was a goner, however, I ran in to get my camera. To make a long story short, he wasn’t to happy about that all, so I ended up getting chased halfway across town by an six-inch-tall amputee. Last I saw him, he was pulling some Crouching Tiger moves across a nearby cornfield, severed leg in hand.