I've had it, I'm through, I won't help you

I've had it, I'm through, I won't help you do it anymore. It just isn't right to take advantage of them even if they ask; and they do as so nicely, but I won't I just won't

bring any more waffles to his door. So I began to walk towards the scaffolding, only to find that the last avatar had disappeared. "Crappola, Kincaid got here first", I

could smell the stench of his fifty day old underwear. I went to Kincaid's bunk and put itching powder the jock strap

it wasn't very original but at least it would keep him from wearing it AGAIN. I was wrong ofcourse, Kinkaid didn't notice anything since he had lice. Just then there was a surprise

party and everyone jumped out from behind the furniture. Today was Kinkaid's birthday, and everyone crowded around him to get pictures. Unfortunately, they all got lice from him.

And they were pissed to say the least. This "party" was actually just an organzied plan to give Kinkaid the beat down of his life. They surrounded him and slowing began to move in.

So Kinkaid got beat. The party was a smashing success. It was a sore-ing triumph. A real gash, man. Everyone felt upper, cutting the rug. They pounded more than just drinks.

They had to, because if you weren't smashed you couldn't fully experience the wonder of a Kinkaid painting!

Kinkaid, the Painter of Light... So there they sat, stoned & drunk, mesmerized by the paintings, the lights from the picturesque cottages beckoning them, drawing them in, altering