We all have our roles to play. Mine was forced

We all have our roles to play. Mine was forced on me by a cruel past; a history I did not want. They didn't have to die; at least, I didn't think so; but they had

been irritating my poor dog named Guess. The flea family jumped on Guess to innocently hitch a ride to the children's sand pit where they lived. The fleas got lost in hair forests

of Guess's shaggy pelt. The flea family saw a light between the follicles, so Papa flea went to investigate. As he approached a bald patch he saw a swollen tic. It said, "

My detachers are malfunctioning. Please do something." Papa flea did something, alright. He'd never seen such a fat tic in his life. So he started a tic circus right there on Guess

What'll Happen Next! The live studio audience loved the tick circus act, but as things sometimes turn out on that show, a crazed wildebeest stampeded through and gored

Al Gore. As Al lay bleeding, his viscera clumped outside his body like a dead dog, Al lifted his head and stared into the crowd. He opened his mouth, "I don't have much time, there

scooped his remains & tipped him into the compost bin. It's what he would have wanted. A few inconvenient women showed up at the Al Gore Memorial Mulching but Tipper

pretended not to see them. "Al Gore was a chaste man," Tipper said at the funeral. "At least give him that dignity, now that he's mulch." But they weren't paying attention. A sprou

t of dandelion grew from the single live bouquet, sprang like a tendril into the open casket, checked to see that Al liked butter, then touched him in a bad place and wilted.