Mr Obsessive-Compulsive had just washed his

Mr Obsessive-Compulsive had just washed his car. He then drove his car to his mother's house. Along the way he crossed a bridge with a Pelican sitting on a street light. Splat!

Oops, or more aptly, poops. Yes his morning coffee and bran muffin had kicked in at the same time of the sneeze. Now he'd have to turn around, head back home, change his pants

to ones that were brown when he bought them, and chastise his wife for her incontinental breakfast muffins. First things first, he had to drive home before a rash formed. Traffic

was bumper-to-bumper and he sat there stuck in traffic, drumming his red-splotched fingers on the steering wheel. It was too late. Minutes later, he was covered in oozing boils.

Soon the pus from the boils was cascading down his sides. In a few minutes it had filled the car so high that the goo started to pour out of the open windows. Traffic jam got worse

when the massive puss flood exploded from the car. The puss greased the Los Angeles freeway causing cars to skid and fly off overpasses. The Puss Spring erupted shooting smelly

But the next day was the Norm's 20th birthday, and we all went down to the driveby Cake-Thru and ordered Smith Island Cakes and ate them in the car. It was an orgy of frosting

icrecream filling, and the best part was the sparklers. The Norm couldn't blow them out but we told him he had to or no cake, so well Norm ate the sparklers too. They day after,

Norm had food poisoning and his stomach was spliced together so precariously he couldn't laugh any more. Dr. Yoon gave his diagnosis at a press conference: someone hated his guts.