OK, I'm completely cereal this time. Honey,

OK, I'm completely cereal this time. Honey, there's bunches of oats to be shredded, wheat to be frosted, flakes in the fruity pebbles paving the rocky road to our bowl. Golden

Bear looked at the Wolf from Cookie Crisp, he said, "You want to scoops of raisins in your face?" He even heard the cinnamon toast crunch when Tony bit into it. How had he let

The Wolf in on the secret? Tony loved frosted flakes and boasted in tellie commercials that they were GRRREAT but not his teeth were rotted from all the sugar. He was diabetic too.

Tony also had a sore tail from all the people grabbing it all the time. Most of them get away with it too, because Tony no longer has his cat like reflexes. He was losing cohesion.

Soon Tony would be gone in a pile of ash when Bartrump Johnson would decided to light him on fire the pyromaniac he was. Tony grit his teath. NO! I can't end like this!

But something was wrong. Bartrump Johnson's plot to ignite Tony was hindered by a high-pitched voice. It was calling for Tony, and it was getting louder with each passing second.

This high-pitched voice was, of course, Johnson's alter-ego, Garth. "Tony, Tony," Garth screamed into Johnson's brain, "Don't set Tony on fire, you love him!" And the matches fell

, drifting down harmlessly, until they reached the pool of Aqua Velva and burst forth in strong, masculine, oddly attractive flames. Oh hell Garth, sorry about that. I didn't

realize you were more of a British Sterling man." Cheswick responded, "Oh, Crouty, after our spirits burn off we are naught but scented water anyway." They gave each other a manly