So you know that little niblet of deliciousness

So you know that little niblet of deliciousness that sticks out the side of a chicken leg marinated in teriyaki and baked at 350 for 90 minutes? Yeah, that's the part that

the scumptious blackened piece of gristle? Well, I am marketing it as a new snack food, "Teriyaki Chicken Crunchy Charcoal Bits." Care for a sample?

It was unethical, really. Little did the consumer know that by chicken, I was talking about chicken genitals. "I'm gonna show you my genitalia, ohhh," she bawked. Majela was our

Julia Childs look-a-like cook. She'd coo at the guests in her high pitched voice soothingly as they picked at the victuals on their plate. "Gizzards are passé my dears" said Majela

who was Jambi's aunt. Jambi hated his aunt. His aunt's head was big and fat, and she had too many jewels on her turban (costume jewelry, thank you very much) and Jambi wanted

people to know who the hell he was apart from a brief mention in a nerdy flash animation with more effort put into it than necessary for the internet. Jambi hated his gaudy aunt,

her red slippers, and her little dog, too. She was stuck in the past with her fantasies of The Wizard of Oz and insisted he call her "Aunt Dorothy." He grumbled, "I'll call you

Aunt Dorothy if you come behind the curtains with me. Oh, and don't mind the Winged Monkey. He just wants to watch." It was a strange sort of fantasy relationship they had. When

Amanda Hugandsniff walked in the room with a lovely pair of red shoes. Aunt Dorothy tackled Amanda Hugandsniff to the ground and grabbed the red shoes from her

bionic arms. "They belong in a museum!" she declared, with her vibro-whip in one hand and the prized shoes in the other. It begins to rain, and Amanda's arms short out and explode.