His tombstone read "Here lies James, who

His tombstone read "Here lies James, who died during the great stickleback massacre of 1986. RIP".

I choked back a tear for the only man I ever loved. I had sworn to avenge him, and so I would, but not as John Smith, oh no. I would As the masked vigilante, Captain Stickleback.

Why Elvis? He only loved too much! It was all those peanut butter and banana sandwiches. A surprising plot twist, a surprising villain. His arteries didn't stand a chance! I wrung

my hands in dismay. "Your arteries, sir!" i cried out, desperate to save him, or at least try. But it was too late. He stood their, helpless, as

king for a Royal with cheese and a giant glass of beer. The latter made my mouth water but his bulging belly scared the pants off me. "Just a green salad for me," I told a server.

"Sorry sir- no pants, no service," the wench replied. Well, I was fit to be tied. It was all his fault I had no pants on, and yet I was being persecuted. Thinking quickly, I fashio

ned a pair of shorts out of a paperclip, a lighter, and 3 pickle slices. They didn't call me MacGyver for nothing!

Necessity is the mother of invention, as Granny Smith used to say. Her apples are still the best you can find. Never throw anything out, her motto was. I am still a hoarder.

nstrous beef jerky, my Slim Jim meat stick, my smoked sausage and rub it on your smooth, hard apples. That's a combination sure to bring any Super Bowl party to a memorable climax!