It seemed that the owners of the million

It seemed that the owners of the million and one Teriyaki places in the Seattle area had gathered together and cumulatively given up the fight against ignorant American assumptions

and begun to sell hot dogs and hamburgers. They must have hit on something special. The line of people eager to get in to the places extended down the street.

Almost everyone began ranting about the crowd and sissy school boys started running here and there. There was utter chaos and the shop owner was disgusted at what he had done.

As was everyone else. No one could quite believe he was capable of

who were interested in a sadistic, homosexual, neo-nazi named Clyde but

could settle for anyone not smelling of old refrigerators. He ran a greasy comb through his hair and prepared to make his move. Walking like a giraffe in heat he moved towards

the fallen fawn, so lovely and pure in the sense that she had been likely to give head on the first date ever since she was in high school and the football team couldn't get enough

of her. She was their battery and taught them that jealousy was what the weak used to stay alone. Besides -- fresh donuts may be better but are just so tough to find.

And that's how I leanred that donuts are junk food. They give you a shot of zing but for real spiritual energy, choose a battery. They just keep goining and goining and...