When I was six I got lost in the grocery store. I got bored waiting for my mom at the meat counter, so I decided to walk away and play supermarket safari. I hacked through the frozen peas forest, waded through the amazon-cheese river, and killed all the snakes in the bread section. When my mom realized I was gone, she ran around like a lunatic trying to find me, but couldn't since I was hiding in the pet supplies aisle buying food for my pretend pony Sir Lancelot and my pretend cat Giggles. This lady finally found me performing a cabaret show for the vegetables, and probably thought I was mentally retarded since I was singing "Rain Drops on Roses" and spinning in circles.
Anyways, my mom was angry with me, and I didn't get ice cream for desert that night.
And that is the story of why I hate The Sound of Music.
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