May 11, 1944: Viewed from the air, the flamingo graveyard forms a large "X."

"Mommy, why are none of the flamingoes moving?"

"They're just... sleeping, sweetie. Now come away from there."

"Little did the flamingos know that was not alcohol that was in the punch."

IN the years following her death, thousands of viewers, pushed to the brink by their relentless pursuit of the standard set by her television show, exacted their simple, eloquent revenge on the perfectly-manicured greens of the Martha Stewart Memorial Park.

The invading army of aliens, cleverly disguised as flamingo lawn ornaments, underestimated Earth's gravity. They were later disarmed and sold on eBay for twice their market value.

The distant future...the scientific community have developed the technologies capable of recycling every scrap of refuse that has value, thus rendering the former landfills into almost barren wastelands, filled with newly uncovered grasses and the only utterly useless items left - shitty lawn ornaments.

When Bugsy Seagle planned the Flamingo Hotel and Casino, this is what he intended. Luckily the Mob whacked him before his horrible ideas could come to fruition.

If i was a flamingo, that's how i'd want to go. Mass Suicide.

FTW!

War is Hell.