He was stuck like a truck in the muck, perhaps

He was stuck like a truck in the muck, perhaps he would free with a fart? The fart came and it went, but no he was not sent, the toot just had no heart. Now we must

extract ourselves from the muck. A fart wasn't much thrust. Maybe a lump in the fart would jump-start the thrust and blow my feet from the muck. The lump almost stopped my heart no

that wouldn't work. Perhaps if I put a lighter up to my fart; that should do the trick. I prepared myself for expulsion from the muck, lit my lighter, and

I could think about was how I really should have called her first before trying something as drastic as setting myself on fire to get my shoelaces untied from one another. "I know

drastic ties call for drastic measures, but is a shoe knot drastic?" I checked my knot-to-peril conversion chart as I placed my burnt clothes in the hamper. "A noose knot would be

a dead cinch." I wound his laces together with mice skulls at the bottom. "Don't you feel like Evil Knievel? Let's up the ante. This time jump Mr.Corliss' car with rockets attached

to your roller blades. Roller blades were under appreciated in the dare devil world, but I saw their potential. "I'll make him a star if its kills me." I'd say. Ironically it did

. It happened during a triple-double heliocrater jump over the Grand Canyon. He made it over, but while I coached him from the edge, I stumbled & fell. I died that day, satisfied

that I'd have a halo around my head but old Pete wouldn't let me in. "You cheated,' he said. 'You really wanted him to die didn't you? Heaven is no place for rogues like you.