'All in a day's work,' he said pleasantly,

and onto the paper, mixing with the glue. He slapped the last bits of paper from his collage over it, then placed it in the time capsule. Years later, aliens would use this dna to

breed a human in their own distant world. But the aliens wouldn't know what to do with it. All it wanted was hamburgers, a big TV and X-factor. But collages was all what aliens lov

But... I forgot what I was talking about. So anyway, this large man came falling from the sky. The expressions on his face as he fell toward me is forever etched into my brain

because his face smashed right into my head. Luckily my consciousness had been recorded on an answering machine. Unluckily it was erased by college freshmen who wanted to

press more buttons than was necessary. Those kids and their pressing buttons! It was an epidemic that really had Lobart fear for his sausages. It had certainly been too long since

he had had the sausage machine serviced. Butcher Beynon looked at his array of sausage awards on the wall and sighed. Did he have one more idea for a novel sausage left?

Who was he kidding; he knew he didn't. His only hope was to make a sausage sausage, with hot and sweet pepper wieners, apple-stuffed andouille, salami-filled kielbasawurst, all

in an attempt to throw off the vegan lifestyle that had become all-consuming and made even his closest friends avoid him at meal time. Busy grinding the various cuts of meat, he

mulled over whether or not it would be possibly to fashion the mince into fruits and vegetables instead. A little transmogrification never did any harm, right?