I'm one of those guys that write your name

I'm one of those guys that write your name on a piece of rice. Not very interesting I know, but the CIA did need my services once.

It was in the 70's. the CIA wanted to subliminally subvert Mao Tse Tung. I wrote anti-communist diatribes on rice which were smuggled into the Imperial Palace kitchens. Egg fried

intellectuals and running dog imperialists topped the menu. None of the Party mucketty mucks suspected their plates were full of subversive rice as they shoved bowl after bowl of

guacamole into their slobbery, bull-dog faces as they tried to seem cultured and accepting of foreign delicacies while under the watchful eye of the Non-Supreme Non-Overlord(TM).

But the Quesadilla Yurt's guac was hardly a foreign delicacy and the Non-Supreme Non-Overlord (TM) knew it. He them placed before the bulldogs a dainty plate of flan. They were con

stipated, as the Non-Supreme's Sour Creme (TM) was from concentrate and the bulldog's digestive systems were not built to breakdown such complicated carbohydrates. They attempted a

Coup so they could remove pink slime from the menus of restaurants. The food police arrested them and made them eat it until they croaked and became frogs. Thus pink slime was the

sole culinary fashion trend of Neolithic dietary cuisine, a fact which caveman comedian Bunga never forgot to mention anytime he stole the show onstage. "PINK SLIME," Bunga shouted

to the crowd. “PINK SLIME…GOOOOOD!” The crowd laughed uproariously in approval as Bunga went on in inimitable caveman style to joke about other culinary delights. “MAMMOTH! I LOVE

KEEP IN TRUNK!" Caves were later painted with an image of Bunga telling this joke and the pandemonium of laughter that followed. That day man truly went from hunch over to standup.