"I like to move it, move it. I like to move

"I like to move it, move it. I like to move it, move it. I like to move it move it. You like to... MOVE IT!" That song was playing for the twelfth time today, this was

an abomination before God and man. So I gathered up all the angry peasants I could find (three) and we burned down the record store. The fire spread to

the set of a new Smokey the Bear commercial. "Not again!" yelled the director. The bear cub interns rotated the set so that the woodland blaze was spreading off camera. "Action!"

"Hugh and only Hugh can prevent florist friars." muttered the great bear head. "Cut!" the director screamed. "I said no puns on the set!" The smoke spread to the ceiling causing

appreciable smoke damage but noone cared. Least of all the bear who'd taken off his head revealing Jackie Chan. The director barked, "Jackie, it's YOU not Hugh for crying out loud

Jackie didn't give a poop. He burst out of the bear costume with a spiral kick and, brandishing a drywall bucket tripped the director and three of the

nuns who were finishing up their third batch of mid-morning prayers. Upon seeing this, Jason scolded him. "Why the HELL would you trip a group of nuns? That's even worse than

—" SMACK! Jason's scolding was interrupted by a wicked backhand. "Do not blaspheme in the house of the Lord." The nuns giggled on the sidelines and gave him mini air high-fives.

The mini-high fives were a function of the nuns' pot brownies, but also because they were midget nuns. They went to a little people convent where they wore these tiny heirsuits