The Professor and I looked at the strange

The Professor and I looked at the strange yellow blob on the ground. "You tell me," he said. "Is that a living creature or not?" I observed the blob-thing more closely. It had

a strong scent of dijonnaise. It wasnt moving, so I was inclined to tell the professor, 'Nope, it's not alive.' As soon as the words left my lips, the yummy-smelling yellow blob gr

abbed by lower lip and pulled it over my head. Eeeuuueeeuueeeuuu was the only sound I could make! Mean Mr. Mustard! Such a mean old blob! Shaves in the dark, trying to save paper.

Sleeps in the light, trying to save dark. Mean Mr. Mustard -- what a moron! When my lip returned to its natural size and shape a weak later, I vowed revenge. In the den. With the

chosen something a bit less...old-fashioned? But candlestick blunt trauma is classic for a reason, and the ensuing flames would destroy the body, as long as I didn't try anything

Deemed safe. There was a knock at the door, and it was my neighbour. How was my mum doing? What could I say? I didn't want the police to arrive yet.

But, having smelled the smoke, my mom and the police came, along with the rest of the neighbourhood. "All I told you to do was boil the water for mac & cheese!" barked mom. Oops.

Multitasking even as the charred remains of the kitchen still smouldered, I glanced up from my computer. "Oh. Sorry about that. Maybe we should get some take-out tonight, Mom."

I'll never forget the moment she looked at me and said: "No, you filthy good for nothing. You get your ugly ass up and pay me dinner or I'll let the hounds loose on you." So I did.