Then Jeff became aware that the man was waking up, and darkness enveloped him once again.
Plop, plop, phiz, phiz... Oh what a relief it is.
Jeff's body splashed against the forest floor, in a semi-liquid state. He was in the middle of the woods. He didn't now how he knew this, he had no eyes now, no ears, no body really. He saw the man squatting over him, then saw the man pulling his camo pants up, grabbing a rifle, and walking away.
"Oh shit," Jeff realized, "I'm SHIT!"
In fact, he was a pile of steaming warm shit sitting in a stinking heap in the middle of the woods now. He screamed in his mind (or whatever it was that was allowing this pile of shit that was Jeff to have any consciousness whatsoever). What would he do? He was trapped as a slowly cooling pile of shit!
"Oh crap," he thought to himself. "I'm really up shit creek without a paddle now. Crap crap crap crap crap!"
He had been shit faced before, but this was ridiculous.
Jeff's "mind" raced as he just sat there helplessly, being a pile of shit, slowly cooling off in the cool forest air.
A few days passed, and his existence rolled slowly by, mind numbingly boring with no action except the random deer or coon passing by. Then while minding his own business one morning, he suddenly found himself beig stepped on and spread all out and caked on the bottom of a hunting boot. "Oh Shit" said the hunter as he realized he had stepped in Jeff. Jeff tried to gather his thoughts, but he was spread on the ground and on the bottom of the boot too, his consciousness started fading as he was unable to deal with being in two separate places at once.
Shit happens, thought Jeff as he faded from existence. What a shitty end... or is it the end? Would some writer among gods want to pick of the challenge of saving his life from this horrible end? Probably not.