…she smacked the crap out of Elfie for interupting to mention the url to her site on this group story idea is in her sig and is looking for more writers. Once the crowd’s shock lessened they…
…they wandered around dazed and confused, wondering what the plotline to this story is. Sort of like a Madonna movie.
With no clear direction, the nurses, the Nixons, the elephant and Puddles, the dog with bad hemorrhoids, piled into the Apache helicopters with their Grande Mocha Lattes and flew south to Miami to hang with the beautiful people. When they checked into their beachfront hotel, the knew that something was amiss. The lobby was filled with…
…Guerilla snowmen weilding machetes! After recovering form their initial shock at seeing snowmen in Florida, they…
…angry members of the PGA Senior golf tour, who had just discovered that were being asked to pay for their continental breakfast buffets by the tournament managers. Waving five irons and muttering dire threats, they advanced on a hapless PGA official. Nixon, realized that something had to be done immediately. Summoning up his many years of experience as one of our most revered and obnoxious elected officials, he rushed to the front of the enraged crowd, held up his hand for quiet, and began to speak. “Gentlemen”, he said…
(oh, crap, damn simulpost again)
~ I am not a fried cheese sandwich! This bizzare statement so stunned the golfers that they were easy prey for the ginsu-snowmen. Gore, hairpieces, and bad plaid flew in all directions as the snowmen waded into the knickers-clad crowd. Al picked himeself off the floor and wondered how the hell he wound up in this story. Undaunted, the enraged men-of-ice closed in for the kill, when…
…Gore stood up and demanded a recount. This stunned the ginsusnowmen who thought this particular issue had been cleared up by the Supreme Court. Still after only a moment’s pause they menancingly advanced toward the former Vice President who was sporting new facial hair and …
a Tazer gun, which of course he invented.
“Tipper!” he cried as he advanced into the guerilla melee
with his tiny weapon, “If I dont come back, don’t forget
to”…
…to pay the phone bill. I left the envelope on my dresser and forgot to mail it before we left for Florida.
With that, he dove into the mass of maniacal mayhem and started zapping indiscrimintly, reducing the snow goons to melting piles of slush.
In no time the plaid-clad golfers joined him, lobbing snowman heads out the front door with sand wedges. In the parking lot, children gathered the slushy remains, selling sno-cones to over-baked tourists for a dime apiece.
Back in the lobby there were hearty handshakes and kudos on a “job well done” all around, when suddenly…
the earth began to tremble and the windowpanes shatter. Al’s head whipped around only to see the world’s largest sumo-wrestler entering the building.
“Come on girlie-man. Let’s see what you’ve got” the wrestler said in a fake Japanese accent.
“You won’t get away with the wanton destruction of my snowmen” he said with an evil grin
His grin quickly disappeared when Al whipped out his secret weapon a . . .
~ stack of civil-rights leaflets. The psuedo-sumo just laughed, but Al whiped the stack of legal literature at the giggling giant, turning him into…
a shredded mass of a thousand paper cuts… but no blood? The psedo-sumo was in fact…Hillary Rodham Clinton in disguise.
Al was in shock.
Hillary sloughed off the shredded sumo suit and hurled herself toward Al holding a …
…McDonalds Cheeseburger. Al saw the horror, and knowing what was coming next. He tried to get away from the imitation meat and stale bun, but…
…he clumsily slipped on the spot of mustard and ketchup on the floor, and skidded towards a metal plate on the far wall. He wasn’t injured in the impact, but he apparently damaged an air-conditioner control unit that provided climate control to the adjoining room. In this room was a convention of young professional women, all in prim business outfits and all with considerably shapely figures and lovely faces. Now, the temperature in that room, which had been a normal 71 degrees, suddenly topped 140 degrees. Before any of them realized they could simply leave the room, the 200 women…
…doused themselves with pitchers of cold ice water. Al could barely control himself when he saw what was now standing at attention around the room, practically staring him in the face…
…the maintenance man, come to fix the air conditioner. After saluting the former veep, Mr Fix-it continued into the room of soaking ladies, and…
…he was suddenly hit in the back of the head and knocked out cold.
When the maintenance man (whose name was Carl, of course) woke up, he found himself on back of a double-humped camel, travelling sand dunes in terrible heat and hard winds. The band of holy men travelling with him never made eye contact, and spoke only in whispers.
After days of riding, they finally stopped at an oasis. When Carl had finished quenching his thirst, he grabbed the arm of one of the holy men and with an urgent voice asked him…
Where he could find a tree in that barren, windswept dessert. The water had gone straight to his bladder, and being the shy type, he knew he could never pee in front of a camel! One of the holy men looked him straight in the eye and said
…“well, if Al was still with us this would not be a problem as we know he is made of wood and easily stood behind. Please allow us to cover the camel’s eyes while you relieve yourself.”
Carl let out a long low sigh as his bowels voided, but a gasp escaped his lips as he looked down to see that everything his urine touched turned into…
Whoa! HELLO!
Was that his BOWELS that were voided? If thats the case,
then he has more important things to worry about than his
fresh inexplicably green urine, such as…