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Once upon a time in a small, isolated village, far away from the bustle of the city, lived a young man with an interesting talent. The particular talent that this man possessed was the art speaking through a third party, specifically his beloved friend, the puppet Salmond. This skill which he practiced with such passion and enthusiasm has the official title of ventriloquism, but the young man of which we speak was wont to refer to it as Conversations With Salmond. Conversations With Salmond provided this young man, of whose name we have yet to encounter, with many happy hours of enjoyment.
Perhaps now would be an appropriate time to encounter our young man's name. His parents, who in the frame of mind usually delivered to those who have indulged in a few too many substances of the hallucinogenic nature in their youth and consequently lived in a permanent state of whimsy, had decided on a moniker they considered especially unique; Bob. Unfortunately, Bob's parents had also indulged in the odd joint.
One bright and unseasonably warm winter's day, Bob was whiling away the free hours indulging in some Conversations with Salmond. So immersed was he in his pastime of choice, he did not hear the footsteps that were drawing close. Holed up in the treehouse his father had built for him one special day whilst in the throes of a particularly good methamphetamine high, he was unaware that a woman that could only be described by men as incredibly hot was passing directly beneath him. This particular incredibly hot woman was inclined towards a ventriloquism fetish, and perhaps would be the perfect match for young Bob. Unfortunately, as Bob was too caught up in his craft, and the incredibly hot woman was deaf, we will never know. Thus we learn of the consequence of hiding away from the real world and failing to get a life.
The End.