Tonight seems weird. I got home and

all of my furniture was glued to the ceiling. My German Shepard was sitting patiently in the middle of the floor wagging her tail in greeting. I put down my grocery bags. "Sheila?

"Sheila E. is that you?" Behind my stupid dog was the 80's music sensation, Shiela E. She HAD been my best friend.

..& whoa, she looked rough. There was no evidence of the glamorous life she once lived & sang about. Sheila E.'s bloodshot eyes met mine. "Got any?" she rasped. My dog sniffed her

crotch then whined & looked at me with sad, sad dog eyes. "Got any what, Sheila E.?" I said. She muttered awhile as if annoyed with something deep in her threadbare tote bag.

Clifford the Big Red Dog emerged from the threadbare tote bag and killed me with a succulent chomp. He then confronted Godzilla deep within New York City and emerged victorious.

He stood proudly on the Statue Of Liberty exhaling the new found fame surrounding him and his personality. From then on he used his new fame to his advantage and

got free taquitos from any seven eleven whenever he wanted. He would walk in, flash his pearly whites, and walk out with enough Monterey Jack taquitos to feed a small bison.

The bison's name was Frank and he kept him in a basement with the hope that one day he would be big enough to set free on the high plains. There he could live out his fantasy of

demanding treats from the tiny townspeople. He would be worshipped and adored and no-one could do a thing to stop him. Frank would save the rest of his kind from slavery forever!