Typewriter Exercise

This was what came from my imagination stretches last night:

Hickory, dickory, dock. The mouse ran up the clock
and, coincidentally, the phone bill and the heating bill
and his friend the duck ran up the rest of the bills.

When fire and zombies run over your town
Please never forget: throw the old gauntlet down.
Don't let semi-humans and chemical change
Determine your pessimisticity's range.
Dare them onward, and upward with wittical phrases
Like "I bet these catastrophes won't up nurse wages.
Through hailstorm, invasion, and civil unrest,
In Healthcare the market will never invest.
While Benjamin Franklin thinks 'In God We Trust',
Allah can't break our economy's crust."
Those zombies, whose very existence depends
On finding the maxim "Things could be worse"'s ends
Will stagger in wonder at wittical phrases
Like "I bet this zombie stuff won't get us raises."

I find when pencil meets untimely end
A jam, mechanically caused, jeers
And pencil, once upon a time my friend
Makes mockery my face before my peers.
Deep down inside, I wonder - what to do?
This harbinger of scribbles' ruling hand
Reduced to bidding florid prose adieu
Must, for a leaden comrade, scour the land.
But no! This trav'ler, trembling for the quest
Of gallant, winged errantry to come
Shall not, though almost to retreat be pressed,
By writing implement be made look dumb.
So! Bash the pencil's tip upon the desk
And by that blow, revitalise the pesk.

I'm beginning to like having copies of the original documents when possible. Therefore:

Yo Ho Ho and a Merry Christmas! (2003 [revised 2005, 2007])

Sixteen pirates, bad and mean
and one with seven teeth
all sat around on Saint Nick's day
and made a Christmas wreath.

They built it with a ring they took
from off a keg of water
and since they had no Christmas tree,
they caught and stuffed an otter.

The otter, it was mighty fine
although it wasn't green,
and in a wink those buccaneers
were making quite a scene.

They scrounged for pretty ornaments
and next thing that ya knew,
that Christmas wreath was quickly made
with jewelry from the crew.

The first mate's diamond earrings and
the bosun's golden hook,
a necklace with the neck attached,
a ladle from the cook.

Then Captain Gimp gazed on the scene
as though he might be bored,
and with his solitary lung
he very weakly roared:

"Ye blasted bigotries of slop!
Ye pansy pails of slime!
I loves me pretty Christmas wreath.
Let's have a scurrrrvy time!"

They danced the old "Yo Ho, Yo Hey"
and threw up all their beer.
And once they were all passed out cold,
a sleigh came--with reindeer!

Then out jumped old Saint Nick, himself,
and since it was his mission,
he built a chimney and slid down--
You just can't break tradition.

Well, Santa gave each buccaneer
a magic silver tray.
Back up the makeshift flue he flew,
and then he flew away.

So once those swabs had roused themselves
and then thrown up some more,
they noticed sixteen shiny things
lined up against the door.

They each crawled to a silver plate
and with each one, a note.
So every pirate checked the card
and read what Santa wrote:

"These trays, when you're in dire need,"
the neat inscription read,
"will turn into whate'er you wish
to save your pirate head."

Now, have you ever wondered why
in movies it's the norm
for people to fall overboard
in every single storm?

The reason is, I'll tell you why.
All sailors are quite dopey--
They swab and swab and swab the deck,
which makes it very soapy.

Thus came the storm! There was no wind,
there was no raging sea.
They all went over anyway;
the deck was swabbed freshly.

So all the pirates then pulled out
their lucky silver dishes.
Then every sailor wished his wish,
and each received his wishes.

And that's the moral to this tale:
If ever lost at sea,
Wish not for sixteen tons of gold--
wish for a PFD.

Limerick for Sally Partridge (2002)

Oh, once there was a lemming.
His rosebush he was trimming.
A wizard appeared
who had a long beard.
His cauldron was a-brimming.

The wizard said "Wahoo!"
I have a gift for you!"
He said "polyglot,"
and out of the pot,
there came Iguana Stu.

"Oh, my red cow!" said the wizard.
"Stu is my pet wishing lizard.
Just pull on his tail,
he'll let out a wail,
and wishes will come from his gizzard."

The lemming said "No way.
I have to work today.
I must trim my bush,
and sit on my tush.
I have no time to play."

The Pearls of Dawn (2002)

Silence reigns o'er all the world,
Then comes a veil of milk,
The smell of beauty 'round all furled
Like spiders' sparkling silk.

The mighty mist of majesty
From ev'ry gentle breeze
Gives ardor to the smallest flea
And whispers to the trees.

The dwindling dark and dewy day
Wake creatures from their sleep,
And they come forth in great array
Some walk, some fly, some creep.

Then from the shadows springs new life
For all to wonder on,
And from the twighlght full of strife
Come all the pearls of dawn.

The Little Train That Couldn't, by Some Guy (1997)

Once upon a piece of paper, in Crantlin Valley, a little train named Jim arrived at his new home. Jim was a boxcar train from Alabama. Jim felt very unimportant.
One day all of the airplanes and trains that brought the regular load of toys from Crantlin Valley to Merold City went on strike. The city needed one shipment a year. The conductor told Jim that he was needed badly to get the toys to Merold City. The one problem was that the tracks had not been used since the last shipment, being when the transportation vehicles went on strike. "Oh boy!" thought Jim, "My chance to show I'm important!" Along he went on his journey.
A week later, Jim was still trying to deal with the tracks. After a steep climb up a hill, Jim came to a rickety bridge made of a rope that looked as strong as old hair. "What in the heck!" Jim yelled out loud. For this was not the right track. "Someone must have hit the railroad track switch." He had guessed correctly, for the trains on strike had flipped the switch a year ago. "If I can make it across this bridge," thought Jim, "it will be easy going the rest of the way." Along the bridge he chugged, swaying back and forth, picking out the moss between the moist planks like a toothpick. Suddenly he started to hear a groaning sound. Jim moved farther, and reached the edge. Another groan told Jim the bridge would fall any second. Snap! The fibers resembling a rope broke leaving Jim's boxcars suspended in mid-air.
The jolt of the cars falling down almost pulled Jim over the side, but the courageous train stood firm. Straining from the weight of the cars, Jim tugged furiously. The job suddenly got much easier. "All that work in Alabama sure paid off!" he thought. Actually, the toys had been falling out of the cars, and shattering as they hit the bottom of the cavernous pit. However, Jim could not hear them, for he was too caught up in his imagination, picturing the headlines screaming, "HERO TRAIN SAVES TOY SHIPMENT".
Finally, after working hard for what seemed an eternity, he lifted the boxcars clear of the hole. The rest of the trip seemed easier. He never figured out why, till he reached the station in Merold City, for he was a stupid train, and didn't even think of perhaps losing the toys. The conductor told Jim what had happened, and never did Jim try such a stupid trip again.
THE END

The Little Pint Bottle of All Natural, Fresh Squeezed, Artificially-Flavored, Orange Juice From Concentrate (1998)

paper wasted by Andy Lawler

Prologue

This short story is based upon a true story, even though I’m not telling you what parts were true, or how this could in actuality relate to anything real.
This story is about a little bottle whose name is in part an oxy-moron. He comes to life and goes on a daring quest to find a lid, among other things. Don’t ask me why he didn’t just go into the assembly room and take one. I’m just the narrator. It’s not my problem to deal with the little guy’s mistakes.
It was rumored, though, that the reason the bottle had came to life was because the good fairy of fake orange juice, named Gary, had received a wish from Mr. Grinfletto, the owner of the factory. The wish was that one of the little, plastic, one pint bottles of all natural, fresh squeezed, artificially flavored, orange juice from concentrate would come to life, for he badly wanted a friend.
Of course this rumor was probably not true for two reasons. The first reason was that Mr. Grinfletto never even saw the bottle. The second reason was that Mr. Grinfletto was the richest guy in the county and had no lack of friends.
Anyway, the little bottle of fake orange juice came to life. Whether it was the magic of Gary the fake orange juice fairy, or it had gone bad and sprouted legs doesn’t really matter.

Episode 1: The Fan Mail Menace

Once upon a time, in a quiet town in Alaska, when everyone was asleep, a little pint bottle of all natural, fresh squeezed, artificially-flavored, orange juice from concentrate came to life. The first thing the little bottle of fake orange juice wanted to do was bring peace and happiness to everyone. This thought was forgotten very abruptly, for the little bottle of fake orange juice had no lid, and spilled some of his brains on the messy, cluttered counter he was sitting on.
After thinking hard, and occasionally spilling his brains out and having to start over, the little bottle finally figured it out. He probably wouldn’t have, except for the fact that he noticed a little of his brain trickling down his cheek. He puzzled and thought for a long time and finally decided to try to find something to fix his head. He then saw a little three-by-three piece of aluminum foil about four feet in front of him.
He tried to dash over to it, but he tripped on an old, stale sandwich that seemed to be glued to the table and the thought literally escaped his mind. "What was I running over here for?" the little bottle squeaked. His mind left him once again. He then saw the piece of aluminum foil for the second time. He slowly bent over, being cautious not to spill any more of his brain. The little bottle fumbled with the foil for a while, pulled off pieces of lettuce and hamburger bun, and then molded the aluminum foil onto his head to create a crude temporary lid. He then decided to accomplish a far more practical task than bringing world peace. "I’m going to get real orange juice, and a lid too!"
Of course, in the real world, no fake orange juice bottle that has come to life has ever been able to succeed in this goal. This is a fairy tale though, so he stands a pretty good chance.
Anyway, the little bottle was determined to get a lid and some juice, so he devised a plan. He found a paper towel roll, and stapled the first paper towel to the window sill. He kicked the paper towel roll out of the window, and started his descent. After climbing down the paper towels for a while, the little bottle heard the convenient easy-tear perforation begin to rip. The bottle scrambled down the paper towels as fast as he could. Then, he ran out of paper towels! His makeshift ladder had not reached the ground! Finally, the convenient easy-tear perforation ripped, sending him plummeting to the ground!

Episode 2: The Sub Sandwich


After falling one yard, he landed on a rosebush. Two thorns were imbedded into his sides, since all the protection he had was a cheap plastic skin. It didn’t hurt, though, because he had no pain receptors. He got up and dusted himself off. He left the thorns in fearing that if he removed them, he might spill his guts. After he had gotten over his fall he began to walk along the road. As he walked he sang a little song that goes like this: "Oh, I came to life, and ran on the counter, and made a cap, and stapled some paper towels to the window sill, and I climbed down them, and I fell on a rosebush, lah, lah, lah, lah, lah." Obviously, he wasn’t going to become a popular singer.
After walking for a while, he came upon a truck with a large, rusty, corroded vat and a pump in the back. The vat had a sign on it that read, "McDonald’s O.J." The little bottle of fake orange juice mounted the bumper and swung himself onto the tailgate. From there, he inched his way toward the ancient, worn down old vat and its crusty old pump. He then started to talk to it.
"Excuse me, sir. I’d tell you my name, but it’s kind of long. I was wondering if you happened to have any real orange juice you could loan me."
Somehow, the vat spoke back. Whether it was the magic of Gary the Fairy, or there was just an old psycho guy who liked to pretend that the vat was alive hiding behind the vat doesn’t really matter. "Hey, Sonny. Ma naime’s Awld Man Vat. If’n ‘twas som fake ortefachel stuff yer wawnned, ah’d bee heppy ta halp ya, but ah ain’t got nun uv that’n reel stuff. Sarry, fella," sputtered the vat.
"Well, thanks anyway Old Man Vat, sir. I’d better be going," replied the bottle, a little unsure he had heard the vat right.
"Bahh thu whey, wut harpend to yer?," rambled the kooky fossil of a vat.
"Excuse me?," asked the bottle.
"Ahh sard wut harpend? Yoo fahl a mitter onta yon rusboosh?," garbled the nutty old vat.
"No. It was only one yard," corrected the bottle.
"Ooooh. Ma mestik."
"Okay, then. Bye," said the bottle.
"Bahhh, young’n. Yahll cum bek naow, yeh heeaar?"
"What a weird guy," mumbled the bottle.
"Wut uh weert kit," murmured the petrified vat.
Just as the bottle of fake orange juice was going to get off the truck, the tailgate was slammed shut. The wheels of the truck squealed, and the truck shot off. The little bottle was hurled against the tailgate. He was on his way to McDonald’s.

Episode 3: The Rabid Octopus

Four days later, they finally arrived in the McDonald’s parking lot. The bottle didn’t know why it took them so long to get there, and to be frank, it doesn’t really matter.
Well anyway, the poor little bottle had gotten dehydrated because of the hot sun. He shoved open the door to the McDonald’s, and heard a little jingle of bells. He shuffled over to the cash register and asked, "Could I get a complimentary water, please?"
The cashier hit a button and droned, "Do you want fries with tha--," He stopped talking abruptly. He looked around, expecting to see a prankster. Instead, he saw a bottle of fake orange juice with arms and legs. This cashier happened to believe in things in the National Enquirer, so he figured it must be a gangster alien in a bad mood, ready to vaporize anybody he pleased. He screamed. He screamed loud. About everybody in the McDonald’s thought it must be a gunman, and fled as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving spilt Cokes, capsized shakes, and half eaten Big Macs in their wake.. Only one person in the whole place stayed. It was an employee with a name tag that said "Wuck C."
"Could you get me a complimentary water and pour it into my head?," inquired the little bottle.
"Sure thing," assured the guy with the weird name.

Episode 4: The French Fries Fight Back

After Wuck C. filled his head up, the bottle walked outside, and looked for a store from which to get orange juice from. After he had walked for a while, he saw a plane flying overhead. A guy was throwing something out of the plane. A sign was trailing behind. It said "FREE DIAMONDS" in big letters. A big diamond stabbed through his cap and stuck there. He made a big effort to pull it out, finally succeeded, and fixed his lid as well as he could.
After a while, he came by a store with a big sign that said, "Real O.J.!" The little bottle stepped inside. As soon as the owner of the store saw him, he dropped a pitcher of juice, fell on the floor, and started to laugh uncontrollably. Another employee came in to take the owner’s place. "Sorry. We had a living bottle of fake apple juice come in last week, and an almost identical bottle of grape juice five minutes ago."
The bottle politely answered, "One pint of orange juice, please."
The employee typed it into the register. "That’ll be $3,999,997.01."
"I don’t have any money, but I do have this shiny rock," explained the bottle.
The employee took a large magnifying glass out of his pocket. "This is a pretty rock. I say it’s worth $4,000,001.03 3/8. Your change is $4.02 3/8."
"Boy. You sure know how to appraise shiny rocks. When did you learn how to do that?," questioned the bottle.
"I have a Ph.D. in gemstone appraisal. You know. Something I did in my free time in eighth grade," stated the employee. He then pulled out his diploma to prove it.
"Do you know surgery?," asked the little bottle. "I need you to take these thorns out and tape the holes up. I also need you to dump my brains out and put this orange juice in. Then I need you to teach me everything I know, which shouldn’t take too long."
"Actually," the employee replied, "I used to be the best surgeon in the world, but the pay wasn’t very good, so I went into the orange juice business. I’ll do the surgery for $4.02 1/4." Then he showed the bottle some pictures of his remarkable surgeries. He stopped when the bottle almost threw up.
"Okay," moaned the little bottle. "Just no more pictures." Then he wrote a list of the things to teach him.

Episode 5: The Return of the Pickled Frog Holding a Festive Blowtorch

After the surgery, the bottle remembered a different concern -- the hole in his head.
"You wouldn’t happen to have a bottle cap, would you?"
"No, but I found a new element that is non-toxic, flexible, and indestructible. It can be tempered into any color. However, it will cost you a punctured three-by-three piece of aluminum foil."
"Well, okay," decided the bottle. "Could you make a suit with a piece that looks like a bottle cap on top?"
"Of course," agreed the employee.
So the employee made the suit, the owner of the store stopped laughing, and they all lived happily ever after.
The End

The Attack of the Unusually Purple Ornamental Wax Eggplants (1998)

With special guest appearance by Kathie Lee

Once upon a time, off of the coast of a quaint little town named Upowe, there was a quaint little island. On the quaint little island there was a quaint little laboratory with some not-so-quaint little scientists. They had moved there because they were nuclear physicists, and they were extremely, let's say "unique." Anyway, they moved there and thought for a long time about what to do with themselves and their new quaint little laboratory.
One day, George, who was normally known as Jackie Chan, thought of something.
"I have a quaint little idea!" thought Jackie Chan. "Why don't we use the quaint little letters in the quaint little name of the quaint little town on the shore to make a quaint little acronym for our quaint little laboratory?"
"Great quaint little idea, Jackie!" said Bob, normally known as Richard Simmons.
"But what quaint little acronym should it be?" said Steve, who was normally known as David Letterman.
"How about the Unusually Purple Ornate Wax Eggplant Research Agency?" suggested Frank, normally known as Colonel Sanders.
"Yeah!" yelled Richard Simmons. "We can just pretend that the U.P.O.W.E. is for the quaint little town on the shore, and when we tell people about it, we'll just call it the Upowe R.A.!"
Anyway, about a week later the not-so-quaint little scientists in their quaint little laboratory on their quaint little island near the quaint little town of Upowe were working their quaint little tails off. The crackle of welders, the sawing of saws and the unwrapping of rolls of duct tape could be heard all the way to the quaint little town.
"Ow! I just cut my quaint little thumb!" screamed David Letterman.
"Help! I just duct taped my quaint little arm to the wall!" exclaimed Colonel Sanders.
"Cool! I just welded my quaint little helmet to my quaint little head!" laughed Richard Simmons.
After a couple weeks, the four nuclear physicists were finished (getting the helmet off of Richard Simmons' head set them back a week).
"Eureka!" shouted Jackie Chan.
"Vacuum cleaner!" said David Letterman.
They grinned at their new invention, which looked more like a ball of duct tape than an invention.
After another week went by, they finally decided to get Colonel Sanders off of the wall. They also called up a bigshot ornamental eggplant salesman.
"Hey yooooou!" mooed the salesman. The scientists weren't sure whether he was really a salesman, or just a cow in disguise.
"Hey yooooou!" Jackie Chan mooed back. "We want some ornamental eggplants. And could you make them unusually purple?"
"Suuuure. I'll go get them. What shaaaade of purple?"
Colonel Sanders rolled his eyes. "Unusually purple. Are you deaf or something?"
"I prefer to be called 'hearing-impaired,' even though I'm not." mooed the cowish salesman.
So, the sales-cow went back to Upowe, and bought some quaint little black market hand grenades, and imbedded them in the unusually purple ornamental eggplants.
A week later, the four scientists called up their friend.
"Lovin' you means so much more. More than anything I ever felt before." blurted Jake, normally known as Britney Spears.
"You drive me crazy!" yelled Richard Simmons.
"I just can't sleep. I'm so excited, I'm in too deep!" said Britney Spears.
"Hey, Britney," Jackie Chan butted in. Are you ever going to speak something that isn't from a Britney Spears song?"
"But, it feels all right!" quoted Britney Spears.
"Every day and every night?" asked Jackie Chan.
"Yeah-heeeeeaaaaah-yeah," said Britney Spears.
"Okay, shut up," groaned David Letterman.
So they finally arranged for Britney Spears to come over to their laboratory.
A week or two later, after they actually did get Colonel Sanders off of the wall, Britney Spears finally showed up. They were finally ready to activate their invention.
After giving Britney Spears enough anesthesia to tip a moose, Jackie Chan, Colonel Sanders, David Letterman, and Richard Simmons discussed their plan.
"Okay, we're ready to transfer Britney Spears' intelligence to one of the eggplants." commented David Letterman.
"How will we know if it worked?" queried Jackie Chan.
"Good point. We'll just hope there's enough to transfer to be able to tell." answered David Letterman.
"Is this whole thing safe?" asked Richard Simmons.
"Why do you think we knocked Britney out before talking about it?" Colonel Sanders pointed out.
David Letterman walked behind the ball of duct tape and pulled a knob. A lightning bolt came out of Britney Spears' head, and entered the ball of duct tape. From there, another bolt shocked the unusually purple ornate wax eggplant with a quaint little black market hand grenade. The eggplant began to dance. The four nuclear physicists were happy that the eggplant had no vocal chords, because they knew exactly what music would be coming from them if it had. As the eggplant danced, it moved toward the edge of the table. Even if Jackie Chan had wanted to (which he didn't), he couldn't have saved the eggplant. As it fell, the quaint little pin of the quaint little black market hand grenade got knocked out. Wax went everywhere.
"Cool!" yelped Richard Simmons, ducking just in time as Britney Spears' brain-waves bounced around the room, finally hitting Britney Spears.
"My turn! My turn!" shouted Colonel Sanders, as he placed another eggplant onto the table, and pulled the invention's knob himself.
Within just a few minutes, everyone was in one of the unusually purple ornate wax eggplants (they got ones without quaint little black market hand grenades), including Britney Spears, who took five tries to restrain himself from dancing off of the table.
"How about we go and annoy people in the quaint little town on the quaint little shore near our quaint little island with the quaint little laboratory?" pantomimed David Letterman.
"Baby, I'm so into you." signed Britney Spears.
"Great idea, David." Richard Simmons motioned back.
So the four scientists and one Britney Spears fanatic left on a raft for the quaint little town near the quaint little island with the quaint little laboratory.
As they went, a storm came up. Since they lived above the arctic circle, the storm was a warm shower. In fact, it was so warm that the wax eggplants began to turn all oozy.
"I'm meltinggg," moaned David Letterman in sign language.
"No you're not," said Colonel Sanders in African sign language.
"How do you know?" challenged Jackie Chan. "You don't have eyes. Everyone knows that living unusually purple wax eggplants don't have eyes. Too bad we didn't get unusually purple ornate wax potatoes."
"That would mess up our quaint little acronym, though." said Richard Simmons in eggplantese.
"True." said Jackie Chan in potatoese.
So, the five quaint little eggplant travelers continued on their quaint little voyage, gargling Danish heavy metal Oscar Mayer commercial songs all the way.
About twenty seconds later, they landed on the shore. David Letterman, with a lot of effort, finally tied their raft to a large boulder.
"D*ng! Why did we have to get such a quaint little big raft? And why couldn't we have ordered the eggplants with opposable thumbs? Have you ever tried to tie a knot without your quaint little thumbs?"
"Oops, I did it again." apologized Britney Spears.
"What?" asked Jackie Chan.
"I played with your heart." explained Britney Spears.
"I don't have a heart. I'm an eggplant," responded Jackie Chan.
"Hit me, baby-" said Britney. Jackie Chan obliged.
"One more time," finished Britney Spears. The second time Jackie Chan granted his wish, Britney's legs popped off.
"Why did you do that? It was pretty funny." asked Richard Simmons.
"It's just so typically me." laughed Jackie Chan. The four eggplants joked and teased their way to Upowe, leaving Britney Spears singing Britney Spears songs in eggplantese on the raft.
"Hey, what can we do to the people of Upowe?" asked Colonel Sanders.
"Let's splatter the town with wax." suggested David Letterman. "Let's plant eggplants in their flower gardens." proposed Richard Simmons.
"Let's put them all in eggplant chinese handcuffs," offered Jackie Chan.
"Those are great ideas, guys, but they're all stupid, insane, complicated, and expensive."
"Why would splattering the town with wax be expensive?" bellowed David Letterman.
"That would work, but the only wax we have is us," contended Colonel Sanders.
"We could blow up Britney," chimed the others in unison.
"No, we might get hit by her brain-waves," disputed Colonel Sanders.
"You mean his brain-waves?" reminded Richard Simmons.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Anyway, we can't blow up Britney." A sad moan went through the group.
"Anyway, we can't plant eggplants. We don't have any eggplant seeds," debated Colonel Sanders. "We can't make eggplantthrax, because we don't have any polyglycerintrihelioxide."
The glint from a quaint little lead box a foot away caught their quaint little non-existent eyes.
"He - ey, wha - at's tha - at?" belched Jackie Chan.
"Le - et's go - o see - ee." burped Richard Simmons.
"Hmm....'How To Make Your Own Quaint Little Eggplant Chinese Hand-Cuffs Kit.' I wonder what it's for." pondered Colonel Sanders.
"Duuuuuh. It's for learning how to make your own quaint little barf-bags!" roared David Letterman.
"Hey, maybe we can moosh some peas and put them into the barf-bags, and put them on people's porches. That would be funny." hiccuped Jackie Chan.
So they opened their How To Make Your Own Quaint Little Eggplantthrax Kit, and began to make barf-bags. An hour later, their barf-bags were ready.
Around they went, putting barf-bags on people's porches, and in the gas tanks of people's Porsches. They giggled from the nearest bush as women fainted, old men yelled, and Porsche owners cussed their heads off.
On about the fiftieth bag, as they were putting the barf-bag on the porch, a weird guy opened his door, pulled out a flame thrower, and torched them all before they could get away.
After the unusually purple ornate wax blobs had hardened, they waddled back to their raft, and went back to their quaint little laboratory on their quaint little island by the quaint little town of Upowe. After transferring back to their real bodies, the four nuclear physicists decided just to study subatomic structure for now on. Britney Spears went home, bought Britney Spears' new CD, and expanded his vocabulary.

The End
Editor's Note

The original version of The Attack of the Unusually Purple Ornamental Wax Eggplants had a comment on planting bombs in skyscrapers to blow them up, and a "How To Make Your Own Quaint Little Eggplant Bombs Kit." But, due to recent events, this has been changed to its current contents.