The Great Wazoo strode through Walmart, his

The Great Wazoo strode through Walmart, his soulless black eyes narrowed as they scanned over the aisles. He was on an important mission: to find a pineapple.

He paused in the middle of the toiletries aisle, realizing that there was a pineapple up his wazoo. He wasn't called The Great Wazoo for nothing. That mission done, he turned soull

fully toward the man at the opposite end of the aisle, you know the one, the one in khakis, and squeezed the cold blue steel of little elvis -- his pistol -- against his index fing

er and prayed for strength. This was his one chance to kill Bill Schwartz and put a stop to all of this...all of this hatred. People called him a maniac - but he knew what he had

to do. Swiftly, he opened up a vial of liquid that he had pocketed 20 years earlier, and drank it all down. "Now Bill... PREPARE TO DIE!" he roared at the hate spreading German Jew

inexplicable yet easily predictable magic!" He thrusts out a hand from his freshly pressed lab coat and points at the liquid. It bubbles and boils over the lid, until finally, it

was ready, and he poured it over his spaghetti. "Now, remember, not a word. If the judges know we're using magic, we'll get disqualified." His team nodded in agreement, but Pete

was worried about being disqualified. His palms began to sweat, and his body began to tremble. Panic is starting to set in as he sees the judges approaching. The judges approach

and then...a surge of adrenaline coursed through his body and heard a little voice in his head say "This is your destiny!" Peace descended and... HE WON!!!