Who says you can't end a sentence with a

not know what a preposition was. Three years in grammar time-out hadn't melted this old man's resolve one bit. "You want another three years? You got it!" yelled the professor.

"You don't have to! You don't even understand what I'm about!" I shouted at my professor, who turned purple at my words. That was that. 3 years in preposition solitary confinement

. The big "In" they called it out in the school yard. You went inside a man but came out next to an animal. Cold. Hard. Preposition solitary confinement broke a man down to

his elementary particles. Such a man was cynical, nihilistic even, and would often be seen reading Celine or Houellebecq while semi-clad prostitutes danced in hot tubs filled with

eels. The man was oblivious to the fact his elementary particles were entangled with those of the high priest of the Cult of Cthulhu. In fact only Cthulhu himself knew & planned

no special torture for it. He figured his regular tortures were enough. He didn't tell his high priest about it though so the high priest kept blustering on and on about how there

Were no more than 37 models of Popemobiles made through history. That number seemed like a lot, though. The torture chambers could be easily hidden inside such a vehicle. Plotinus

instead decided to use the extra Popemobile space to open a small hot dog stand. That way Plotinus could make some dough selling fast food to the masses en route to mass. The stand

sold holy hot dogs & popelish sausages. It was soon commercialized & became a chain throughout most of Vatican city. In the end I retired rich enough to buy a stairway to heaven.