Tuesday, September 27, 2016


I think we are all being a little hard on the guy. He knew he was different from the start. All those around him were just, you know, small. He was yuge. He tried his best to fit in, spraying himself with Testors orange #4. But as all the others sang songs about chocolate and the immorality of chewing gum, he only dreamed of forcing tenants out of their homes and shitting on a solid gold toilet. He was especially distraught after his only role model was turned into a giant blueberry. Leave he would, leave to find his real father and the immigrant wife of his dreams. So he to grabbed the most life-like of his road kill collection and with his tiny tiny baby hands arranged it ever so carefully on his head. Off he went. He had heard from his father's friend that his real father was on the Naughty list, but he did not care. He didn't care about his real father's shady business practices or mob ties, he was off to New York to meet his destiny...

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