"What is with all these freaking medicine

"What is with all these freaking medicine men in these stories?" I bellowed at my computer. "Why can't we have benign, non-racist topics like the merits of green and purple grapes?

The purple grapes sharpened their own stems, impaled green grapes left and right, then used the green grapes' pits to lob projectiles at more green grapes. It was grape-on-grape

race warfare, and I couldn't pick a grape to bankroll. When I think grape juice, I think purple, but green complements my kitchen. I airdropped some white grapes for the green army

that had been stationed in my kitchen. The green army consisted of two stoners armed with hackey sacks.

But those two green army stoners ate me out of house and home. The devoured everything I could haul home....daily runs to Costco didn't seem to put a dent in their appetites

for generic cheese puffs in transparent plastic barrels. Finally I told them that even though I was grateful for their sacrifices in the military, they would have to start paying

me in gold doubloons. Or I was going to pole dace at their school in nothing but my studded leather thong and all my glorious 300lbs skin. Would they pay? Or would I dance?

The face in the mirror said "Hell no!" I asked my identical twin to do it and she sang "Why don't we do it cin the road?" So we had to find a suitable location. That was the hard

part that went behind the malleable minds of the chosen few deemed worthy of our sibling esteem. Our Twin Powers fell short in that regard & the town would suffer for it forever.