"So, how do you do this again?" I asked him,

"So, how do you do this again?" I asked him, staring down at the equation scribbled on my paper.

"The baboon's genes need to be spliced very precisely with the wombat and giraffe if we want to create an enjoyable mutant zoo experience for our visitors", Irenaeus articulated.

Irenaeus, liked articulation, both verbal & skeletal. "The long graceful neck of the womgaffe is pleasing to the zoo visitor. But woe to those wrong breeders who mix ungulates with

barbituates," he hooted, jingling the bottle of heart pills in his pocket. The mixed laughter didn't satisfying him, so he turned back to the display, eyeing a particularly silly

looking bong. Whacha take for that green one there? The clerk frowned and said, "How many times do I have to tell you

that's not a bong, it's the Slurpee machine! Now, do you want a lime Slurpee or what?" The customer blinked at the machine, realizing his mistake. "Yes, I'll take a dozen," he said

looking overattentatively at the clerk. "You make them yourself. I wanted you to stop putting your lips on the spigot trying to milk the Slurpee machine. I have to clean that." Gel

did not do the trick. Shooed out by the clerk, he swept back into the quickie mart almost instantaneously. He reached into the rolling hot dog racks and got his fingers stuck!

His fingers were all torn off, one by one, and spun around on the hot dog rack. This man was a glutton, reacting with hunger rather than fear, and ate his amputated fingers.

With no fingers to lift his fried fingers, he couldn't eat them either. He ended up going to the hospital without eating his fingers. The fingers were eaten during the next rush.