Jesus Christ is this ever going to end? When it hits a small goat standing on the peak of Eleanor's hood scoop while eating a somewhat flattened football. When suddenly the closet-dawg anounced: NO ELEANOR THREADS ALLOWED! Then 87gn appeared from the past is present in the appearance of our old pal Doogie! The future holds that this story could possibly never end until such time as it begins to snow in Hell and pigs take wing & Foghorn flies off with the Hopkinator to their secret hideout where they became involved in a plot (funeral plot). "A grave with a situation," exclaimed to be dealt with by pummeling Pakrat with feral dinnerplates and aerobatic blood thirsty kamikazi flatware! After the pummeling I loved dragging fuzzie bound in chains down to the depths of the gutter. Once there, he exposed his floppy diskette that jumped like Chepsk8's fleas when attacked by rabid stacks of feral dinnerlats.
The end is just the beginning but gp001 never learns! The end exhaust manifold and the beginning is intake manifold. The end hasn't gotten here yet! Just when someone screamed "Help me!" from in between Blue Fuzzy's toes; where steelhorse was last seen with cookie crubms and marshmallow between his tiny ears that match his peanut sized love for beer can only be followed by a loud edict from gp001 as monkeys fly outa my azz gasping for air while burning bright chartreuse dripping like dracula's teeth after feeding on virgins like Madonna and "Jack-o" with a plasma cutter and an ice machine on top of Ozsums backside which is now frozen to my ass. Meanwhile, over in the rendering plant we have 101 martians that feed the ricers gutter soup made from old daiquiris and peanut gutter-butter topped off with fuzzy wheat bran and Dot3 they think. . .