Once upon a time, there was a stop sign who existed in a near constant state of panic, having no control over anything at all. 

“Stop!” screamed the stop sign, as children skateboarded by.

“Stop!” he screamed, as people drove to work, and “Stop!” he screamed, as they came home again.

“Stop!” he screamed, as dogs came up, sniffed at his pole, and lifted their legs.

“Stop!” he screamed, as older couples walked slowly by in the evenings, pointing at the birds.

“Stop!” he screamed. “Stop! Stop!”

Late one night, some teenagers came up to him.

“Stop!” he screamed.

The teenagers didn’t stop, though. One had a can of black spray paint, and they were all giggling and up to no good.

“Top!” screamed the top sign, and then he screamed “Op!” and then he didn’t scream anything, but his eyes were big and wide, and in his head, it was “Stop! Stop! Stop!” all day and all night, and he suffered nothing but fear and horror until ten years later, the city came and replaced him with another sign.

The new sign said, “Poodles!”

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