"Don't sit under the ninja tree, with anyone

"Don't sit under the ninja tree, with anyone else but me," sang Veronica to herself under the big old oak on Hilliard's farm. The boys around here are so predictable, she thought,

all they ever do is sneak up and bludgeon one another with bizarre tractor engine parts or crouch behind the silo and sniff spraypaint -- none of the twits dressed as ninja, and

an out of work hipster have ever heard of a think tank. The twits were only concerned with staying up late and mine craft. This is why the general hated his grandsons.

"Time to get these boys up and 'em!" The General threw a tear-gas canister into to his grandsons' rec-room. "Playtime's over! Gimme twenty!"

The kid, while a good soldier, was still learning to count. He pushed over a pile of marbles to his grandfather and replied, "you give me twenty, Dogmeat!" Colonel Sanders smiled.

"How did you guess that dog meat was the secret of my secret recipe, you little whippersnapper?" Col. Sanders said as he rumpled the kid's hair and tossed a flea collar out the

drive through window into the next waiting vehicle. "Well Col. Sanders sir I am a professional dog food taste tester. And I demand my money back the dog food you used taste like sh

ipworm shit!" Col. Sanders wouldn't take this shipyard talk about his 7th secret ingredient and threatened to blew the dogfood taster's fool head off.

Col. Sanders was a kind soul at heart, so no one took his threat seriously. Thus, the ravenous kraken was the only one who was served a decent meal that day.