"so, any last remarks, Bieber?" "No, Sir"

He tried to reply, but all that was audible through the gag was "Mmphl." Doktor Evilschtein ceased his monologue and shot Justin Bieber in the head. He was dead forever. The end.

At least that's what all the Bieber-haters thought. But they hadn't counted on Dr. Frankenpepper who had Igor dig up the corpse and bring it to his lab

to recreate the teeny-bopper-loving baby-faced crooner. "IT'S ALIVE IT'S ALIVE!" Dr. Frankenpepper cried. The monster sat up and began to sing a bubblegum pop melody.

Because the monster, who lived in the closet, had written every bubble gum pop song heard on the radio. The monster had composed several N'Sync songs in the closets of many

little children. The monster wasn't allowed anywhere within 100 yards of children, but he never got caught. After Monsters inc. went south all he could do was write pop songs. Anus

was his name. You can guess his game... disgusting! His name was on every watch list and monster offender list. You can imagine that

whilst he was at the top of those kind of lists, he was probably at the bottom of lists entitled 'People I'd Most Like to Spend Time with' or 'Top 10 House Mates' not that

he went online to look at his rating. There he was, between Genghis Kahn and Carrot Top. To move up, he had to be 'nice' to his roomy. Things like 'flush the toilet' and 'bathe.'

He went so far as to acquire an immune disorder to turn the tables. Outer sterility led to inner fecundity, his creativity flourished, and his dark blossoms illuminated the world.