prizes award to whoever
has the most ridiculous
hairpiece, or the shortest
temper. But enough about
me. How is your
prepper stockpile holding up?
I ran out of
Juicy Fruit gum but
my stockpile of grenade
launchers is peachy keen.
Our scene shifts to
the desolate fortress of
the long knights of
the octagonal table where
nine played musical chairs
, singing “Oklahoma!” much too
softly for the drunken
mouse in the clock
, whose name was Milo.
Yes, that Milo! The