Delivering a corpse was out of the question,

Delivering a corpse was out of the question, but re-animating a shredded body full of shrapnel was too rich for his pay grade. He nodded once before drifting across the center line

his skills at inking comic books deteriorated rapidly upon the onset of narcolepsy. Once reknown or bringing characters to life on the page, now he couldn't stay within the lines.

So he started his own comics about really fat and sloppy Heroes. It was told from the perspective of a near-sighted dentist. Staying in the lines didn't matter and

shockingly almost everywhere the comic writer turned, dentist motifs would haunt him: spit and rinse; fruit-flavored flouride treatments; Little Shop of Horrors. It had to end

soon or he was going to be forced to take drastic measures. He saw a horror movie once where a man extracted a set of molars from a kidnapping victim. He couldn't get the screaming

to be as loud as he wanted, so he had to traumatize the victim even more by torturing baby squirrels in front of him, and making him watch repeated reruns of

The Golden Girls. The trials and tribulations of four elderly women was too much for the victim; he snapped, and entered a deep fugue. The experiment seemed doomed until

Suddenly her memory began to return. St Olaf! I am from Minnesota's smallest town! And my name is...Gertrude Ferdabrugenugen. My favorite food is pickled carp! It's all coming back!

And that did nothing for her since she was all alone at that beach,and there wasn't a single living creature around that she could introduce herself to...