"1 o'clock and alls well," the obnoxious

"1 o'clock and alls well," the obnoxious cockatiel squawked. Dr. Moodle's bloodshot eyes popped open just long enough to locate the bird and

google an exotic recipe for yummy roast cockatiel. Dr. Moodle then lunged for the bird, who fluttered into his lab. The Doc barged in after it, and dove...into a vat of toxic guano

lip balm. Dr. Moodle drowned in toxic moisturizer. Hours ticked away in the lab. When he awoke he had mutated. He was evil and soft. He was Mr. Lotion.

He rubbed his supple creamy tender hands together. Mr. Lotion achieved his dasterdly goals softly. He was passive aggressive and smelled like aloe vera.

Mr. Lotion. I always hated my name. Why was my family name a self-fulfilling prophesy?! WHY WAS I DOOMED TO WORL WITH LOTIONS?!!! I HATE LOTION!!!!!

But I put the lotion on my skin anyway, as instructed. I wasn't really in a position to refuse the request. Wasting away in my hole, I considered what my life could have been.

I coulda been in the movies. I coulda had pretty dresses and fanboys everywhere. Instead here I was, rubbing soothing cream on my eczema prone skin, enjoying the sensual rubbing on

My hands at the expense of fame. What a bargain with the devil, I thought. My cat assured me I was okay. Thanks to her, I got up and went to the grocery store. The cat followed.

The cat demanded expensive tuna, but it turned out I had some extra on my food stamps that month and could afford it. Why not treat yourself every once in a while?