Soft little Muff Muffin had been quiet too

Soft little Muff Muffin had been quiet too long. The day was grey and sad. How had Mitchy let poor little Muff Muffy get near that

threshing machine? Muff Muffin, though adorable, was clearly on his deathbed. Mitchy had run off to investing in grief counseling, which involved kicking rocks and taking

prednisone. LOTS of prednisone, which began to not only change his personality but the shape of his face, it changed it, not to a "moon face" but so that he looked exactly like: ..

a half eaten strawberry. His face was crumpled in one corner and jutted out in another. Specks of brown littered his nose, and soon people started singing, "strawberry face

ey were & decided he would prove the song wrong by seeking out all the people it claimed he, Strawberry Face, would kill. He would meet them & NOT murder them. In front of cameras.

Strawberry face would look like a true saint, and all he had to do was not murder his enemies!

After so much blood, his enemies weren't about to believe Strawberry Face when he forsook violence & sought only peace. They ganged up on him & he had to kill them all to survive.

Strawberry Face climbed the mountain of bodies of those he had slain in the name of peace and non-violence and looked out over the now-lonely landscape. Far away he heard the sound

of spider coughing. "Bless you," said Strawberry Face. Music surged to full volume now - the soundtrack of his life. SF held his face brazenly into the wind and shouted, "Victory!"