Whoouh. I pushed back from the delivery Chinese-splattered

Whoouh. I pushed back from the delivery Chinese-splattered table, grabbed a fortune cookie and limped to the couch, spent. Cracking the cookie, I pushed some shards in my mouth and

read the fortune: "You will be obducted by aliens and obtain special powers". Not your typical fortune. That night I left the window open, Roswell was having a spell of hot weather

and I was having a spell of washed-up colloquialisms. The UFO appeared in the sky and I said, "While I'll be a monkey's uncle." When it landed in my yard I

suddenly turned into a monkey's uncle. My arms were hairy, my legs were hairy, my face was covered with hair. I looked like a testosterone fueled

I fashioned myself a connoisseur of degeneration. My opposable thumbs and I could be seen at modern art exhibits, jazz concerts, and WrestleMania. "They're doomed," I said smuggly.

Unfortunately, the animal kingdom's art extravaganza was not impressed by my smug attitude in regards to having opposable thumbs. They scurried & scampered about Dresdens, Picassos

and Thomas Kincaid's like they could paint them too. They "thumbed" their little noses and sniffed around so much it was like they were trying to find a rat. Stop

smelling everything! The wretched old lady seethed. Everyone scattered. Everyone, except John. John liked this artwork, and he wasn't going to stop sniffing until he dog-gone felt

nose fatigue and even then he would send in a replacement sniffer named Rex to continue the duty. The old lady had lost her sense of smell in a car accident making her suicidal.