The first to speak was Nyquil of Eärewygge, the council elder. “They are but children,” sneered he, stroking his flowing white beard. “Are we to entrust our most sacred quest to the like of these quibullous squatlings?”
“Poppyrot and balderstuff!” roared Hieronymous Thalidomide. “Small they may be, but large in spirit, ’tis plain to see. Their valor shall make proud this council.”
“Besides,” added Gleevec Beaverbalm, “they’re just going to the delicatessen.”
And now, buckaroos, it’s time for Bark Owens and Roy “Good Boy” Clark as Pickin’ and Grinnin’ (and Scratchin’ and Bitin’).
Get your motor runnin’
Head out on a Jet Ski
Mah human better ride good
Or I’m gonna end up wetski
Look at your man. Now back to me. Now look at my thumb. Gee, you’re dumb. Back to me. I’m on a horse. In a rocket sled. Look again: Now I’m on a boat, in the desert, playing Stratego with Liberace. That makes no sense. Do you want your man to smell like me? Probably not, because I smell like cat box. I’m in a bag.
Stop trying to make Fitch happen, Julia G.
Whar’s muh vittles? Ah want an extra-thick porterhouse steak, a pastrami sandwich, a couple bratwurst, a turkey leg (hold the feathers), and a bacon salad with dressing on the side. Oh, and a cheeseburger for dessert.
That there shore is a cute pit’cher, Onkel Al.
In this thrilling sequel to H. G. Wells’ classic tale of genetic engineering run amok, Dr. Moreau once again attempts to create human/animal hybrids, but shoots for something a little more cute this time out.
This has been a brainware3000 Production.
I tell people what I do, and they always go wide-eyed like it’s some kinda dream job. Yeah, as if. Try sweating under forty pounds of fur and fiberglas while some dipstick in a chicken suit pounds you with a rubber mallet and then get back to me.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s not all bad. The hours are convenient. Beer’s half price. Sometimes I put on the head and drive around, y’know, just to mess with people. But seriously, if you’d told me I’d be doing this, I’d have shown up more in college.
“This is a photo bomb with my boston terrier Porkchop,” writes Katherine M.
Very little is written about the warrior princess SkëlärthGrøønt, who took the form of an alpaca sharing a head with a soccer mom from Keosaqua, Iowa. One ancient text refers to a similar creature intervening in battle to confound the invading Visigoths with a series of increasingly complex riddles involving buttered toast.
(AP Photo/Kerstin Joensson)
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