OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL AM I EATING?! This.

OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL AM I EATING?! This. was. everything. wrong. about. Thistown. Thistown angered many men. They couldn't seem to make sense of all of these random changes. One

saurus to beef up Thistown's Main street with a few real sounding restaurant's like Linguini Sweatshop & Buritto Gong. It was all going so well until some strangers ran out of gas

and met the Children. The Children of the corn. You see these strangers were in for it. They had their little artisenal pipe dreams, but these children had dreams of their own.

Corny dreams. Dreams con carne. Corn on the cob children. Ty Cobb's children. Ty Cobb's dream. The strangers didn't understand this circular logic. They were dreaming of pipes.

Strangers dream of straight pipes, or pipes at right angles. This reminds me of the enormous bidet I had in my flat in Brussels. Its pipes were soldered in a figure of 8. Ty Cobb

admired it's designer curves. He could have fallen in, had he been close enough to its porcelain edges. When I squeezed its shiny knob, everyone in Brussels heard the bidet groan.

And so my evil plan was set in motion. First, the bidet in Brussels, then the toilet in Turkey. Soon, the world would know the might of the Commode Commando!

Ritual washing would soon come to an end. Then the whole world would know that port-a-johns are the only alternatives left. Everyone would know and despair as the limits of defecat

ion would be broken. The stigma of exceeding a zoo's exports weighed heavy on the collective consciousness. It is all the human race will amount to.