I was loitering around, then out of nowhere,

I was loitering around, then out of nowhere, these freaking pears came rolling down the hallway. There were too many for my dodge ball skills to handle.

but not enough of them to make a sandwich. So I jumped over the pears, landing directly on my face. the pears then started to roll towards me again.

plant workers came to fear the violence of the pears at harvest time. After a nasty incident with a gang of rowdy Forelle hybrids, Shop Steward Marta Appletits called for a strike

. "We gotta go out on a limb here!" Marta Appletits shouted into her megaphone. "PEARS GO HOME! PEARS GO HOME!" The others picked up the chant & the picket fence line formed.

As the picket line advanced, the Pears slowly started to go home. Marta Appletits' plan seemed to be working until a brave Pear tackled her into a semi. Bleeding on the road, Marta

ate the pear. It was yummy.

I then ate 1 piece of cake, 1 ice cream cone, 1 pickle, 1 slice of swiss cheese, 1 slice of salami, 1 lolipop, 1 piece of cherry pie, 1 sausage, 1 cupcake, and 1 slice of mellon.

That added up to 10 hellish hours of indigestion, 10 belches that shook the neighbor's foundations, 10 chin folds, 10 pounds of additional flab, 10 bouts of sugar-induced hallucina

tion, 10 cataclysmic farts, 10 days of borborygmus that sound like a possession & 10 years of steady income from repeat performances at gastroeneterology conferences.