So, I couldnt decide if it was really profitable

So, I couldnt decide if it was really profitable to smuggle bear paws. Sadly, my partner in crime thought I said bear claws, & it was over from there. 15K of sugary goodness had 2

day celebration where he impressively inhaled 210 glazed donuts. The only problem was that what happened after that is a bit a an urban legend so, inviting him may not be

the cat's pajamas, but what the heck, I was a crooner and this was Las Vegas baby. This is what I said to him, "Listen Hercules, would you like to see a real life Hydra? Ah-oogah"

Hercules shook his head. "No. I'm just here for the quarter slots and hors'd'oeuvres." He sheathed his sabre and headed for the machines. I, Rick Springfield(!) was rejected again.

I was remembered for putting out dreadful albums and movies more than thirty years ago. Now, I played dinner music for grown men wearing gorilla suits to La Lapisse d'Or.

The goon at the door reminded me to mention that we are also fully stocked up on goons and all goon related products.

The goon turned and gestured at all the plaster garden goons I had placed all over the lawn. "Don't you think they're a little... er... racist?" the goon asked. Flustered, I shut

off the sprinklers to give me a moment to think of the right response to that question. I turned back around to face the goon. "Get the H-E-DOUBLETOOTHPICKS out of my garden! NOW!"

The goon replied. "H-E-double...?" Then he collapsed, an eerie blue glow in his eyes. I could just barely make out the words: "This program has performed an illegal operation..."