The Cypriot Prime Minister was thinking.

The Cypriot Prime Minister was thinking. He could a) let the country go bankrupt; b) suffer a bizarre Polonium 210 death at the hands of a disgruntled Russian depositor; c) no c

redential the police; d) send his fellow Cypriot to avenge the Plutonian's death; or e) give up his role as Prime Minister and sink his head in a hole like a

boh Lumidia did when the Crimson Mistake happened back in the 1899th Dimension. Could he, the Prime Minister be anything like Aboh Lumidia?

It was a horrifying thought that the Prime Minister was secretly such a despicable thing such as he, and with dimensions at stake it was time to end this. All of it must end, soon.

I called 911. "Hi. The Prime Minister's a farting alien. Didja know?" "Old news," rumbled a voice on the other end, "and now may I take your goshdang pizza order?"

The officer hung up, clearly not impressed with my prank call to an emergency department. I started to doubt my decision to go along with it, considering they may not take me serio

, but I decided to give it one more go. I picked up my phone once more and called a random number. "Jin-Jin Chinese restaurant, your order please?" It was too easy.

I knew I should lay off the carbs & MSG but I ordered some fried dumplings. "And then?" said the delivery gal on the phone. "Then I'll have half a Peking duck." "And theeen?"

"And theeen I'll have the other half," I replied, thinking I was preeetty funny. "And some chop suuueeeey. Uh, do you deliver to the county jail?" The delivery gal hung up on me.