telling fortunes under a sticky and humid grain tarp

Dried meat was the body part of an animal in times past.

Squint your eyes until they look like two grains of rice.

When you see the crimson drop of blood coming from the needle in the dancing penguin's head, your mouth giggles.

You are trying to pounce on a moving object with your hand or a magic wand.

As she glared at me, her eye ascended from my feet to the top of my head.

Foot soldiers vandalize army truck windows, shattering them with a stone.

Excess weight on a scale made of two big dippers makes it slant.

The fortune teller picks up (with her thumb and a finger) an imaginary thread from the palm of your hand.

There are lots of tooting horns in a metropolis.

Lu mumbles as he sells his sun-dried fish.

Lu is a seller of sun-dried fish.

a fire in a cooking stove built of soil

A barbarian shows up at your party and you make an expression of surprise.

They say you can't stockpile sleep, but a nap sure helps me keep my eyes open through the evening.

The shed is a wooden clubhouse for your companions.

You shrink your threads staying overnight in the dorms or at a slumber party.

Is the tiger story told in the Life of Pi a bluff?

Cáo Cāo hasn't spent much time in the kitchen, so when he has to make his own rice, he messes it up.