I met Stalin and Roosevelt at the party.

I met Stalin and Roosevelt at the party. There they were at the punch bowl with Adolph. I told them I didn't trust him and they said, "Oh honestly, Winston, who DO you like?"

watched more Jews, Gays and Political Lackies burn in his fireplace as he swizzled his vodka. He threw a Gypsy on the fire because it was extra cold tonight, then Stalin

-grad fell prey to a Gyp odor so strong that it drove the Gypos and Gypsters (who felt gypped) all the way to E(Gyp)t. When Stalin's car quit Stallin', he too left Stalingrad and

the pikeys kept after the half-mutated goose-stepping Italian fascist. They kept trying to steal his hat and moustache and clothing and anything else not nailed down, so Stalin re-

taliated by singing old Russian folk songs. Mussolini helped him by quacking at them and flapping his wings. Then Hitler arrived. He was furious that Stalin had let them nail him

him to the wall using his head & arms as a coat rack. All he wanted was a little punch from the punchbowl, was that so much to ask for? A little glass of punch with fruit floaties

? There it was, just out of reach & he was thirsty, not just for some punch, but for revenge, especially now that someone had just tossed a jacket reeking of meatballs over his fac

simile machine. Now how would it work? He hated the smell of meatballs, turkey meatballs were especially the worst. He grabbed his other office machines before the smell creeped

into the tiniest gears.But now what?Ink aroma! Now that is a smell everyone enjoys! Hot black ink, right off the press.Hmmm.Gets the productivity juices rolling.I can reproduce!