~in medias res and shit

War is hell I guess. Stuck in some motion-blurred gunfight, my friend loses both of his arms. They're gone like I'm running toward that condo over there. Inside, I don't care about your arms. I don't care about any of this. I jump out of the window, and roll down an everglade. In the 1820's they were less judicious about prefixes.
I go to the mall. I walk around, outraged that I'm in a mall. I start shouting "Why am I here?" but continue rambling. This woman walks by, long long hair, it's dark. I squeeze her arm because I'm outraged and she's good looking. She begins to follow me.
The woman takes me to the zoo, and convinces me to buy this droopy baby elephant. Now I've got this droopy baby elephant. It flops around on my back, on the ground, its elastic. We take it to some counsellor. She doesn't know anything about elephants and never lowers the shades enough.