so I ran over to the 7-11 and purchased a laxative....but the clerk...who was actually Tom Brokaw in his new gig....said...Whall, I know you. I have been following your exploits via webcam and BLOG.

I'm lonely....may I attend to your wounded libido and be your faithfull sidekick? I can donate a case of Slim Jim's and bottle of Jack Daniels....

... To which I though, Quanlan was my sidekick. Having Tom as my sidekick would really piss him off. This would be funny to watch! The twins and I could bet on it like the time i was stationed in De Nang and those awesom Cock fights! I made good money on those Chickens! Holy *****. Thats why the chickens of Zoltar are mad!!! I made money off of their cousins, and the want it back with interest! But what percentage should i give them? The Tom spoke up ....

Hey, HOW ABOUT A SLIM JIM?

Then the back room blew open and who steps in??? Randy the Savage!!!!! He looks around the mini mart, the dust settling on the bags of chips and Hostes cupcakes. He looks at Tom and says" ITS 'SNAP INTO A SLIM JIM', B!TCH!!!! OOOHHH YEEAAAA!!! GET IT RIGHT OR PAY THE PRICE!!!"

Tom, shiving, asked... "Mr. Savage, what is the price?"

Meet my prison friend, Ben Dover....

and his girlfriend lucky charms. There both are here to help perform the exorcism on the "new" Beth. Lucifer the goat, Tom Brokaw, The Twins and Quinlan all gathered around myself and Beth - who had morphed into the hideous beast which was from within. Her long tounge (in other situations which would intice me), her blood soaked fingernails - blood from what I do not know - her long tail with a sharp talon on the end, made me think.......this girls not for me and maybe I could better with a Hottie from the Pelican Board ;-). At this time Beth was P*SSED - she began to ..............

Call Cool Chick for a challange!

but CC declined - Isabo picked the challenge...

But Isabo was sunbathing with her massage boy Guido....however....carefull not to spill her Martini with twin pearl onions, she used her satellite cell phone to call Dick Cheney....

The Big Dick was in an undisclosed location and breathlessly answered....ooohhh, Isa....you never call anymore.....

I have to hang up - my wife is in the other room. Meanwhile back at the cabin, Beth was ..........

In the kitchen tenderizing broccoli with a bottle of mustard. With each swing of the bottle, Beth seemed to become more and more enraged. Then she set down the mustard and picked up the smashed broccoli and smeared it on her clothes.

The phone rang. She picked it up. ‘Hello?’ she said sheepishly while sipping scotch and slipping seafood salad sideways on the crazy cool, crooked counter made of crunchy carrots.

After hearing one word from the person who called, Beth hurled the phone against the toaster oven with all the force she could muster. ker-BLAM ! went the phone.

Beth then raced out to the garage and fired up the motor of her exotic moto car. ‘To hell with the mashed broccoli!’ She thought as she mercilessly slammed the shifter into first. She brought the tach up to red line and side-stepped the clutch.

‘SCREEEEEEEEEEEECCCCHHH ! !’ went the tires of the posi-tronic, hopped up, tricked out, dual exhausted, monster motored, dark colored, nice smelling vehicular machine of speed and style.

For the next twenty minutes, Beth slammed into and out of gears with a vengeance only a mother could love. Up-shifting and down-shifting. Full throttle, then chopped throttle. Left and right she turned as the tires howled in dismay and confusion. At last a time came when she was away from the traffic and out on the open road again.. and here is where she really let the car unwind..

When all of a sudden a loud noise was heard from under the hood, metallic sounding at first, smoke billowing from the underside of the car she slowing brings it over to the side of the road, precariously close to the edge of a dangerous drop off in the road, "what will I do now," says Beth. Thankfully, she sees a van put on its signal and pull of the road behind her car...

"Need a hand Ma'am?" a softspoken southern asked. Beth's eye's became wet, but it didn't stop there. "Looks like ya'll gots your self into a heap-o-trouble. Mind if I'z takes a look under your hood and see if I can't tighten somp'n up?" Beth didn't mind. In fact, she couldn't get out of the car quick enough. She stood by, various food groups dripping off her body. "Ma'am, not for nott'n, but your gots your self a whole heap of problems, not the least of which is your table manners!" Beth became dizzy, her leags grew weak. She fealt as if she was loosing total control. She fell into the stangers arms, breathing heavy, head spinning, legs useless.

Then he told her, "I just happen to be senior salesman at a nearby Porsche dealership, never mind why I'm driving this old Jeep and don't even ask why I'm so dirty or why my hair-piece is in such disarray...I can help you. I'll call a roll-back to pick-up your car. Would you like to ride with me? By the way, where were you going in such a hurry? Oh yeah, I have a couple of jumpsuits in the back of the Jeep. They are sewn together below the sleeves, but we can cut them apart and you can wear one. Ummm, you can change right here. I won't look. I promise!" He smiled the all too familiar "sheepish" grin we have all grown so accustomed to in this thread. Then the Beth creature replied...

....with a swift kick to the groin and shouted "That's for all those magnesium cases engine rebuilds that have cost me so much money over the years" and before the Southern Gentleman could stand up straight she jumped in the seat of his pickup and threw gravel over a man and a car.

The roll-back arrived and the driver looked in disgust at the salesman as he said, "You again!?!"
Meanwhile, back at the cabin...

Lucifer the Goat was online ordering another crate of smokes, some goat porn, and downloading music from Goatster.

While Lucifer was at it.....he decided to post some old Porsche Parts on the net. He thought he had some good fair prices....then some jerk from Georgia posted on HIS thread....saying HE had better prices and that Lucifer's stuff sucked.....

Needless to say...he was irked......he jacked a teflon coated cop killer round into his trusty .40 S&W Sigma automatic, checked his Duracell powered laser sight, polished his hooves, checked for a wedgie and....


"ROADTRIP" he roared......John Belushi turned over in his grave and passed a dusty poof ............

Meanwhile back at the batcave....

Edited for content. -Z-man.

obviously all sorts of hell is breaking free - the protagonist of the story (never identified with a name) sat and wondered, "I go out for dinner with the inlaws/outlaws and the place is now in shambles! It's gonna take half a bottle of Boodles to get this inline again...