03-01-2007, 08:28 PM
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pixie of the wood
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Join Date: Apr 2004
Posts: 10,575
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the flying spaghetti monster.” “ja,” she replies, “vight avay, herrn travolta.” she taps the button on her phone next to the white label marked WWTFSMD and as john travolta watches his monitor in growing horror, john edwards’ cell phone begins to ring at the same exact time! “bjork! abort! abort now!” he shrieks. he runs to hide in the closet, grabbing a cornish game hen on the way. it’s been cooked to rapturous perfection in the compact rotisserie, its impeccable texture enhanced only by the flavor injector set that came free when he purchased within the next ten minutes. after he wipes the grease from his hands, he feels much calmer. he now knows who he must speak with if he is to rise above this latest betrayal. as the discarded bones lay at his feet, he presses the i.c.e button on his watch. the glowing digital readout disappears and is replaced by the face of gary coleman. “gary! the worst has happened!” warns travolta. “whachoo talkin’ about, john?” gary barks. “we need your help, gary. you’re the only one small enough … plan B must be enacted … you must descend the depths of the sewers … you’re the only one small enough. we need you to find …
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