I'll scratch yours if you'll scratch mine.

I'll scratch yours if you'll scratch mine. Oh, wait...I forgot...you don't have one.

That's OK, I'll let you borrow mine..but first I really gotta scratch it, right here, in public, on the bus. Yes, I mean it. No one's gonna care if I scratch it there -

I watched as he scratched it. "Y'know, never mind. I think I'm gonna pass. Maybe I'll just see if there's one I can borrow from some homeless bum down at the river." I made my way

towards the Boneyard. That's what we called it due to the immaculate carcasses. A line of factories and refineries on the East Bend drained noxious fluids into it. Donnys box was

super hair. Giant, black curly hairs came out of Donny's box like a werewolf's face. The box was empty inside. It'd come from UPS like this, just wiry and oily and

squirming. Donny dropped the box. Giant curly black hairs weren't supposed to MOVE. On impact, the box melted into a mercurial puddle. The UPS deliverywoman cackled. She was hot.

The package she was delivering weighed 50 pounds. Donny had a bad back and asked the woman to carry it inside the front door into the living room. There it exploded.

But nobody noticed it. Even the man whose face was found being used by an obviously not extinct Dodo claiming to be a Timelord and that his name was Who, & he was a doctor to boot.

So we booted him again and again right in his tender Timelord-Dodo naughty bits until he finally admitted that he was pretty much extinct anyway. Then we felt bad and bought him a

Mars Bar. He took a bite and immediately threw up. It turns out the Mars Bar was actually a turd wrapped in foil. He never ate chocolate again.