That was when I dared Jimmy to eat 25 slim

slim, as would be expected. I tossed out my salad and started shoving slim jims down my throat too. I figured they couldn't hurt, since they're basically celery sticks made of pig

glutens and denatured soy isolate. Kinda bland until you roll 'em in some tabasco or whatnot. My gut

thanked me for the XXX habañero sauce, though other quarters would harangue me on the morrow. Next up, some cabbages to keep the cancer at bay. The innocent brussels sprouts

glistened in the starlight like gigantic, green, wet, fly eyeballs. Emerald cruciferous racquetballs bedazzling the gently sloping buttocks of the east garden. Hot sauce should

get all those racquetballs off the east garden; they were quite useless when Bedazzled anyway. The workers were uncomfortable rubbing sauce on the buttock-esque hills, so they

gave up anything that reminded them of sex. Basically this meant that the workers joined National Public Radio and became Terry Gross's "ex-terns" but

she never appreciated them the way they deserved. Since they were sworn to celibacy, they couldn't rape her to retaliate, but they were confident they could find other embarrassing

ways to belittle her. They made snide comments about her toenail manicure & poorly matching lipstick color. Since their Order required monks to wear drag they were in their element

at Lady Gaga's fashion show, but they didn't take kindly to the models outshining them. It was about to turn into a catwalk catfight.