Gastro-Intestinal Joe didn't have kung-fu

Gastro-Intestinal Joe didn't have kung-fu grip. He didn't even have arms and legs. G.I. Joe was just a head and a gastro-intestinal tract.

Because G.I. Joe was just a head and a gastro-intestinal tract he was more cobra than COBRA.

That's what happens when you expose a human to extreme doses of radiation. With the genetic material destroyed, your flesh just melts into gooey pink fluid - much like the chicken

goop served as protein for school lunches. The three headed dogs don't truly exist, at least not for a millennia. Instead, a wasteland of ash and cockroaches remains. And me.

But I wasn't about to try to become Earth's new "Eve" or whatever, no way I'm gonna bring a child into this hellscape. Instead I rescued a two-headed dog and named him Cain & Abel.

"Come, Cain & Abel," I call, and he comes, wagging his tail so hard his back feet leave the floor, "Who's a good two-headed dog? You are!" This beats having kids any day, even thou

gh he requires a daily human sacrifice. First, you must cut them open and stuff them with dog food. Then, you must slowly pour the blood and urine of a thousand cats over it. Final

Ly you would smother many cacti in cow Frisbees and plug any available orifice. Then turn the sacrifice into a human torch. The offering is chosen by a lottery. Any questions?

A tiny voice from the back row piped up with, "Can we volunteer others to be the sacrificed instead of a lottery? If so, can I volunteer my Uncle Eric. He likes taking the blame."