Deep in the Himalayas, the monk knew he would

Deep in the Himalayas, the monk knew he would never fulfill his one true calling: lion tamer.

troop. "Woohoo! i'm a lion!" the previously-a-monk-but-now-a-lion cried, prancing around for joy. Then the ringmaster came in. "Well, Firemane, today's the day you get neutered."

That means no lion-monks in his family. Firemane mauled the ringmaster and he never dared utter that again. Lion-monks were largely Vietnamese born, as was Firemane. They ate pho.

Fireman clearly didn't eat pho. So he was no lion-monk. He might have convinced the ringmaster but the other carnies might need a mauling of their own to believe him. It wasn't wor

cestershire sauce spilling down the fireman's chin and bib. It was tar heroin, which unfortunately was located on the menu right beside the pho. Be careful what you order, I guess.

I had to drag the fireman out to the curb so he could sleep it off. By the time I got back, my tater tots were stone cold. I re-ordered them, but the waiter was curled in the corne

r gibbering about The Old Ones.Sure, I could have bought some frozen tater tots and microwaved them, but I especially enjoyed the ones this restaurant served. I entered the kitchen

to find an Old One feasting on the remains of the cook. A tattoo informed me it was Titus. Damn, now I was mad. Titus was the only one who knew how to cook my eggs. The tater tots

Wakka cooks aren't eggs. The bacon Yuna cooks isn't eggs. And anything the Old One cooks is still screaming while it's on the plate, which isn't very appetizing. IHOP here I come!