"Too Bad." The meter maid ripped off the

"Too Bad." The meter maid ripped off the ticket and stuffed it in my mouth. So I

bit down hard into my high-fiber lady finger snack. My mouth watered as I

chipped a tooth on a hard part. As my tongue began to swell,

shifty looking tires that they keep giving me. They tell me it's to distract me from the pain, but I know better. My friends, they all died because of poisoned tires. I wasn't

ready for this. No one was ready for this. Who could be? It makes you wonder

what else might be in the cards. How can you be ready for anything? I took a deep breath, pulled on my boots, and turned to

the Ace of Clubs. "How dare you bring that kind into our house," I screamed. "The only good that can come of this is

if your sister brings in an Ace of Spades!" Only then will we have a full house, but Bob Sagat and John Stamos we are not. We're not even that Joey guy that Alanis Morrisette hates

even more than the rest of us. This card game is over. Peace.