"How many scarabs are in this mummy?" Candide

"How many scarabs are in this mummy?" Candide Argos, PhD pulled another one out with a pair of jeweler's tweezers. He counted twenty-five so far. He called his graduate student to

grab the flamethrower. "I there is one thing I hate, its scarabs," Candie thought to himself. The graduate student then brought over the weapon and smiled with glee for he knew

that though scarabs were nothing but harmless beetles, the sociopath in him desired nothing more than to destroy them and all they stood for. Flamethrower in hand, he yelled,

"DIE! MOTH****ER!" he burn down all the harmless scarabs. Suddenly, the giant king scarab came out and shoot lazer at him, but missed. He throw away the flamethrower, knowing that

Halo, fatigued from war, could not fight the aliens alone. So being the pretty cool guy that eh is, assembled a team of super sleuths that don't afraid of anything. Their name?

His name called Led Zepplin, and he was a nice guy. He was musically talented, surely able to any alien's that Halo could not defeat

but suddenly an alien called him on it. "WHAT YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH SPACE ALIENS? YOU SOME KIND OF RACIST" and then the alien shot him right in the zepplins.

Not that he knew he had any such body part. Either way, it hurt, and it hurt bad, and he wasn't standing around to wait for another one. He threw himself behind the nearest

penguin statue, and prayed for his life. As his left arm popped out of its socket, the floor began to crack, and a crevice the size of a