Talk about a bus load of trouble. This animal

Talk about a bus load of trouble. This animal strolls up, enters and sits down with all the other passengers like it's a

church pew on Christmas Eve. He hadn't worn deodorant since 1985 when he got a mean case of shingles in his

belly button. In Catholic school they called him "shinglebutton" because the disease would make his belly button

swell and pus a little bit. You could see it from outside his shirt. He was embarrassed, but even more worried about

what the girls of Sigma Delta Tau would think when he showed up later at their door, with that unsightly wound oozing

with green slime. They would be bound to find out his lifelong secret. It would ruin his family, but he really needed help. He decided to

call his friend, Frank. Frank would know what to do. He had things that could make other things go away. We called him 'Preparation F' for a reason. He answered on the first

ring and told us that he knew precisely what was to be done. First, we had to hide out on top of a hill with lots of loaded guns and remain there until help arrived. I wasn't

sure how to maneuver a miniature tank nor how to use the element of surprise - I failed chemistry 101 - but I decided I'd give it a try. After all, my mother used to say