There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka.

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward

[QUOTE]Originally posted by Braling II:
There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling, whatever it was.

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling, whatever it was. The dim light

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There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling, whatever it was. The dim light cast a shadow

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling, whatever it was. The dim light cast a shadow, a dim shadow,

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling, whatever it was. The dim light cast a shadow, a dim shadow, yet bright enough

There I was, facefirst in gutterland, lip bleeding and prosthetic leg missing. Oh, the shame! But all was not lost! For, I still had my Etch-a-sketch. Must turn knobs! I woozily turned what I thought was my head and opened my swollen glass eye only to find it gone too. Curse that dame! And her horse! Should I survive this double humiliation without regrowing something I'll sell my soul to Satan! Need a crutch, and a drink. Shaken, not stirred. Wait a minute, no frog licking or kicking at my athletes foot, but a large furry redeyed rat with no teeth but carrying dentures...
"Ahoy!" cried Rocket.
Rat dentures clamped and shattered everywhere, as mine had when I fell. Washington's horse dentures proved amazingly becoming and long lasting. Until now! However, Rocket bent down with one good, yet shaky leg lending his hand.
"'Ahoy'?", I said.
"Ahoy!" he replied. "Where's your leg?"
"Long story, short...memory, I just discovered I'm adopted. By Lady Godiva."
"The naked chick?"
"And her horse!"
"Pulling my leg!"
"Well since you insist..........THE END."
"...but not of THE WORLD. Nyah."
She said, as she strolled up to the two startled pathetic wretches. Parting her lips, revealing clenched teeth and bleeding gums, she softly said, "Don't mind me." I looked up into cold mirrorshades and not knowing what a mirrorshade was, I heaved a great shrug and slouched forward toward the town, followed pathetically by Rocket, a rat, and his compadre. I stopped under the glow of a streetlamp.
“Wait a minute,” I said, “We’ve got a whole herd here. Compadre, go rent a pickup truck,I’m going to sit here on the curb and clean my gat.”
"Yuk! Gat gut!"
"No! Are you still drunk from those seventeen martinis?"
"One Pangalactic Gargleblaster."
"Oh, that's potent! Anything else would
eat your insides a lot less!"
"You don't say!"
"Yep! I do!"
"Where'd Godiva go?"
"A Chocolate Convention!"
"Stop horsing around."
"My Etch-a-sketch shows I'm not lying!"
BAM! CRASH! POW!
"What! Your imagination!"
"No! It's my underactive memory gland."
“Wake up, lad!”
"It's now or..."
Suddenly, everything shook! Giant chocolate bunnies (solid, not hollow), were quickly eaten and discarded like they were made at Willy Wonkas.
"Wonka, Godiva competitors?"
"You bet ya!"
Suddenly, without the knowledge of Rocket, I took off my Etch-a-sketch knobs hoping that he wouldn't shake me.
The rats were trying to get a second wind, and Godiva was certainly trying to dupe Willie Wonka. Whereas Rocket couldn't connect the dots.
I limped toward whatever. Who cared?

It was chilling, whatever it was. The dim light cast a shadow, a dim shadow, yet bright enough t'know twas over!