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The mad gleam in his eye pierced the night,

  • The mad gleam in his eye pierced the night, he said, "Smell this pit will you?" I looked at where his crooked thumb hooked towards. This was not going to be pretty.
  • He tried forcing my face to meet his smelly pit, but I ducked and twisted out of his sweaty man grasp. "Smell it yourself you silly twit," I quipped and stuck my tongue out at him.
  • Then, with index finger and middle finger curled, slightly a part, my olfactory senses were offered no escape. "Got your nose." He laughed and showed me. I raced to a mirror and
  • saw I had no nose, just a smooth flat spot. I grabbed his arm and pulled. "Got your arm!" I retrieved my nose from the hand, reattached it and tossed the arm aside. He got my left
  • buttock in a hammer-lock and pulled it off. I put up a half-assed struggle as he tried to get a toe-hold on his discarded arm, but I twisted him away from it. "I demand the right
  • to vote for a different candidate!" I shouted."There should be a an E none of the above please submit a new candidate line!" his arm flopped out of my grip he kicked me in the head
  • and I was dead. In the afterlife I was reflection on how arguing over voting reforms had so tragically ended my life when the most unexpected voice suddenly blared in my head.
  • It was the spastic voice of Pee Wee Herman, who, giggled and said, "That was the president again. I've got to steal back the X1 before the Soviets find the secret compartment!"
  • Spastic surgeons were called in to resuscitate the Russian scientist who had just crashed into PeeWee Herman. The steak burritos were ready to eat them. The breakfast burritos
  • not so much. They demanded restitution of their husbandry duties & a half day on Thor's Day for General Tomfoolery, may he rot in Nebraska working at that flooring store in Omaha.

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