Ever since he got possessed, Joe couldn't

Ever since he got possessed, Joe couldn't stop typing in tongues. "Ddev6lde66evid6il..." He had tried and failed at a method of self-exorcism that involved grits, a Bedazzler, and

a cantaloupe with a hole in it. All in all, not a bad evening. However, the next morning Joe was left with a dazzlingly gritty hangover and still hadn't exorcised his devil. Rabbi

Rabbinistein didn't know what to do, so he sent Joe on a journey to see a series of increasingly demanding medicine men down in the amazon rainforest. If Joe's devil wasn't cured

by the pygmy witch doctor's live shrunken head treatment, at least the devil inside him would be hard-pressed to cause serious harm inhabiting a microcephalic host. But Joe's head

gear confounded the Pygmy Witch Doctor. He was abused at every grade for the contraption affixed to his head and teeth. But now, the headgear saved him on this tropical island

The studio executives intercepted the telepathic transmission, and within 20 minutes the drones were in the air. Upon sighting the swarm he knew the game was up. As he plummeted,

he kept begging, pleading that the myth was true that you die before you hit the ground. He even clasped his hands together a moment as he fell 30,000 feet. It wasn't true.

The truth was that you only kicked the bucket before hitting the ground if you fell more than 30,000 feet. "This is going to hurt," he fretted while falling the final forty feet.

Then he thought, "If I embrace the imperceptible "now," my past transgressions won't matter and all future moments are for me to decide." He stepped off at a foot, landing gently.