"No, you can't", replied Papa Smurf angrily

"No, you can't", replied Papa Smurf angrily to the question "Is it ok if I

finish your hamburger?" He seemed extremely nervous. I took a closer look at the burger. "Why is this meat so...blue?" I asked with mounting horror. "What kind of burger is this??"

The Hamburglar rolled up in a lowered candy-painted impalla. He had joined a gang to improve his self esteem and because he had no family network. The Hamburglar had joined

The Taco Hell's Angels. A turfwar ensued between his new gang, his old gang the McDemons, and the upstart all female "Wendy's witches". The Harburglar had to prove his loyalty by

taking out Jared, that stoolie. "Rubble-Rubble" he sneared and went for the hit. Elsewhere, Col. Sanders, Agent of the KFC, vowed to end this fast food fight. "I love the smell of

napalm in the morning," Col. Sanders said, completely missing the irony. He wanted revenge on Neo, but that was another story. He had to reclaim Wendy as his bitch, be-

yotch, to use the parlance of our times. For the little freckled pig-tailed trollop had run off with Carl for a little of the old In-N-Out. The Colonel was not amused. He marched

the remainder of his company through the Mojave. On the long nights he amused himself by making his men wrestle with coyotes, in the nude. "Such a child I am", thought the Colonel.

"As a man, I must put away childish things." But he vowed to keep his childish wonder, as his men coyote-wrestled in the nude under the stars in a dark desert sky.