Apple Dementia

You don’t often think about fruit evolving, do you? You probably don’t even think about fruit at all, you just eat it. In your mind, it’s been the same since the beginning of time; since Adam rose from the dust and started parading around like he owned the place. The truth is, billions of years ago, fruit wasn’t really the same as it is now. It had to evolve ways of spreading itself around, just like everything else in existence. It had to adapt to changing climates and new organisms.

I never really thought about fruit until now. In fact, food in general disgusts me. Oh, no, I’m not anorexic or anything. I’m far healthier than most people because I only eat nutrient paste. I can’t stand the idea of eating food like everyone else. Making disgusting noises. Smacking my lips. Dripping and crumbling all over the place. Food is a horrible thing, really.

One of my least favorites is apples.

(unfinished)

Razor Burn

Gillette’s new Sextuplrazor™ has six blades… in addition to stubble, it removes that troublesome first layer of skin, eliminating blemishes and allowing you to tan more quickly!

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The Schick Sin Splicer™ razor has seven blades: one for each of the seven deadly sins. Not only will it give you the cleanest, smoothest, closest possible shave, it will cut away your sins and leave you with that pure look that the ladies love!*

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The new Gillette Labor-Saver™ razor uses recently declassified anti-gravity robotics technology: the same used by astronauts. It is self-propelled and YOU program it to traverse and shave the areas YOU want shaved- hands free, which allows you to use it safely in any situation… even while driving!

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Experience the new Schick Extreme Triple-X Razor-Chamber 2006™! Stand in the middle of our comfortable personal chamber and, with a push of a button, trillions of microscopic razors with aloe strips will permanently eradicate every hair on your body in just five seconds!

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Gillette’s awesome new Sexifier 5000™ razor automatically redistributes your facial features along both sides of your face, maximizing facial symmetry and making you scientifically more beautiful!

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The new Schick Flyboy™ razor cuts away and removes all points of friction on your body, allowing you to fly effortlessly!

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Wow! Gillette’s new Dominator™ razor reconfigures your molecular structure while you shave to give you incredible super powers! Take over the world and impress the ladies!

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Don’t wait any longer to try Schick’s new Nullifier™ razor, with chemical strips that add an invulnerable layer to your skin, making you immune to annoying super-humans who would try to turn you into a slave. Turn those pests away today with the Schick Nullifier™!

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DO NOT TRUST THE INFIDELS AT SCHICK! SOON, WE WILL CAPTURE THEIR SCIENTISTS AND REIGN SUPREME! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! GILLETTE WILL SOON BE YOUR MASTER!

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Join the Schick underground and stand up to the threat of Gillette world dominance! If we stand together, we can defeat them! Schick scientists are working around the clock in secret to make a new line of razor weaponry to fight the evil theocracy of Gillette. Join us or you will only be contributing to the man!

God, stupid men! What the hell is their obsession with razors? Oh well. Um… try the new Venus shaving cream. Our razors still have two blades, but now our cream has an herbal formula!

Yeah

A wise zebra once said "It doesn’t matter whether we’re white with black stripes or black with white stripes, because all of us are red inside." Then a lion ate him and all the animals saw he was right.

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An old man was approached by some rough-looking teens while walking home late at night. He pulled out a gun and shot them all. "Honestly, you can’t even walk alone on the street at night anymore," he later told his wife.

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He became quite irate when, at the moment of Armageddon, the world split in half right through the center of his house.

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It is a little-known fact that circus ringleaders always plant their tents over tunnels to the center of the Earth, which is where the clowns live.

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She made sure to take a slow-acting poison so she could put a mark into the box next to the last item on her final checklist.

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The River Styx is full of complainers, but they put him in Purgatory because he only complained about how much people suck, and they figured they’d already put Sartre there, so they might as well be consistent.

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The future will be like Tetris; everything that fits together will disappear with an abrupt musical chord and a white flash.

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With the advent of nuclear-powered cars, a simple gas station fire became a national disaster. Turns out the subsequent advent of the plutonium pump wasn’t such a good idea.

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Plankton sometimes put on musicals, but they never get anywhere because plankton are far too primitive for currency.

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"I don’t want to split hairs" has an entirely different meaning to atomic physicists.

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When he started out as an actor, he didn’t know that plays were eventually performed for an audience. Fortunately, his first and only line was "What the hell are you all doing here?"

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He figured that if he discovered the meaning of life while plummeting from the edge of the cliff, he could grab onto a branch and save himself.

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If you’re having dinner, and someone says "Will someone pass the salt?" and you say "I’ll pass," did you agree?

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When the one-armed man groped her, she yelled "Hey, get your dirty hands off me!" Seconds later, she became aware of her mistake and apologized profusely for having been so insensitive.

Disbelief

This program has been brought to you by I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter! No, seriously,

it’s not? Wow! Really? It tastes just like butter. Where did you get this stuff! That’s amazing! Haha! Wow! It’s really not butter? How many calories does it have? Get out! Can I see the label? Come on. Please? Of course I believe you, I just want to see for myself. Please? Could you tell me where it is then? I’ll just go get it. Come on. You don’t even have to get up. I won’t snoop, I promise. Look, I just want to see the label. No, I won’t leave. No, we can’t change the subject, I want to see the goddamn label. You know what? I bet it is butter. You fatass. It would be just like you to lie about something like that. Yeah. Yes, I would like to take it outside. Let’s go. Are you man enough? Let’s go. Yeah, fuck you! C’mon fatass. Quit dancing and hit me! Come on. Ow! God! Ow, my tooth! FUCK! Ow! Oh God! Ok, stop, I believe it’s not butter! Oh God! Help!™

Siegfred and Freud

The lights dim and the crowd grows silent. Suddenly, there are lights and smoke everywhere! Pyrotechnics! The haze clears and out comes a tallish man, well-built, flamboyantly dressed, leading a beautiful white Siberian tiger around. The man produces a sheet and covers the beast with it. He makes a few grand gestures, and the sheet falls to the floor as though nothing were under it. The crowd goes wild. The man puts his finger over his mouth, crouches, and makes a grand sweep, and the whole audience goes silent again as though it were the Christ Himself on that dramatically lit stage in Vegas. He yanks the sheet up off the floor and, lo and behold, the tiger is back. But something is wrong. The tiger has a wild look in her eyes. She roars a couple of times, and the man tries to reason with her to no avail. She turns to him and leaps, sinking her powerful jaws into his arm. He screams, and a little white haired man with a goatee wearing round spectacles and a cardigan sweater scurries onto the stage and whispers a few things into the great beast’s ear. The beast releases her hold on the screaming, bleeding man and crouches on the floor with her paws over her eyes and her tail between her legs. The little old man squints, shields his eyes from the lights with his hand, makes a sweeping gesture much like his now incapacitated partner had just moments before, and cries out "Ist dere un doctor in der house?"

For 30 Years Nothin’ Bad Came of it

well, I just got done with work, right, an’ I go outside n’ light up a ciggerette, a good American brand, y’know, they had ‘em two packs fer the price a’ one at quik stop, an’ I’m just smokin’ n’ mindin’ my own business, right, an’ I’m alone an’ it’s pretty late, an’ it’s dark out, an’ I sees this little shadow in the street light, an’ at first I just think it’s just a leaf blowin’ around r’ somesuch, an’ I’m just mindin’ my own business, an’ the leaf starts movin’ real queerlike an’ I put on my glasses, right, I only need ‘em for drivin’ an’ readin’ an’ a’ course they overcharged me fer the dang things, but I looks at the leaf an’ I see it’s a goddang bat, looks like it’s hurt r’ somethin’ but I don’t really care so I go on smokin’ an’ pretty soon it flies off an’ I don’t think nothin’ more of it, I just go on smokin’ an’ mindin’ my own business, right, an’ all of a sudden, I see a little shadow up real close n’ movin’ toward me, an’ I kinda flinch n’ throw my arms up in the arr like this, an’ my ciggerette drops down my coatsleeve, an’ starts burnin’ my arm so I’m flailin’ around tryin’ to get the goddang thing outta my coatsleeve an’ that goddang bat lands on my head, an’ I’m tryin’ to get it off with my other hand, right, an’ the ciggerette’s goin’ further down my coatsleeve an’ then that bat starts bitin’ on my forehead, so I’m jumpin’ around an’ hollerin’, an’ Jimbob comes outside to see what all the commotion’s about an’ what with all my flailin’ an hollerin’ I jus’ knock him out cold, n’ then the ciggerette gits down to my armpit n’ starts singin’ the hairs, right, an’ thar’s blood in my eyes, an’ I cain’t see a goddang thing, an’ then my glasses fall off, an’ break on the ground, dang things cost me two hunnerd dollars, an’ a big ol’ piece a glass gits caught in my shoe, right, an’ I’m still jumpin’ aroun’ so my foot’s gittin cut up pretty bad, an’ then to make matters worse my good workshirt gits caught on fire, so I’m tryin’ to git my dang coat off, an’ I’m coughin’ from the smoke, right, an’ my shoe is all fillin’ up with blood, an’ I know that goddang bat’s got rabies r’ somesuch but I gotta git my shirt off, so I just smash the bat like a bug, an’ his teeth git lodged in my skin, but at least he ain’t chewin’ me up no more, so I’m tryin’ to tear off the coat, an’ somehow the zipper got all stuck on my arm, but if I don’t get the goddang thing off, I’m gonna burn, so I just rips it anyway an’ get a big ol’ gash, an’ then I tear off what’s left a’ my good workshirt, an’ it’s real cold out so I’m freezin’ my butt off, an’ I got a dead bat hangin’ offa my head, an’ burns all over, an’ a big ol’ gash on my arm an’ I start to run fer the hospital, which is just a couple blocks away, but I forgot about that glass in my shoe, an’ it just jams right up through my foot, so I just tear the shoe off n’ start hoppin’ on one foot toward the hospital, an’ I’m half naked an’ it’s real cold out, pry about 20 degrees, an’ I’m about to cross the street when this car comes outta nowhere n’ just smacks right into me an’ breaks my leg, but thank God it wasn’t the one I was hoppin’ with, an’ this guy gits out, an’ he’s screamin’ an’ I couldn’t see a goddang thing an’ I ended up knockin’ him out cold with my flailin’ just like Jimbob, an’ I woulda tried to help him but my plate was already fulla my own problems, so I just kept hoppin’ only now I had to hol’ up my poor broken leg an’ wouldn’t you know it, I hopped right into the park an’ right into some kinda soccer net some goddang kid’d put up but thank God I was hoppin’ so fast I just tore the net off, but I got all tangled in it an’ it kept trippin’ me an’ I kept fallin’ over an’ landin’ on my face an’ skinnin’ up my arm but I made it to the hospital without much further trouble an’ they tried to make me fill out some goddang form but I hollered enough and I was getting’ papercuts anyway so’s they just took me back to see a doctor n’ they fixed me up pretty good an’ cut the net off me an’ got the bat off my head an’ bandaged up my burns an’ sewed up my arms an’ my head an’ took the chunk a glass outta my foot an’ sewed that up too an’ I swear to God I ain’t gonna smoke no more.

The Man Behind the Horns

Doc, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m a train wreck, you know? I mean, people complain about their jobs all the time, but mine’s the worst! And I can’t quit, I can’t retire, I didn’t even apply! I don’t even run Hell, but that sure doesn’t stop people from blaming everything bad that happens on me. I guess I could just tell you my story. How much is this costing me? Geez-a-loo, you work somewhere for a trillion years, you’d think you’d get a raise, a bonus, SOMEthing.

I guess it goes way back to when I was still in heaven. I was one of the original angels, you know, but I never quite fit in. Those were my darker days; I was still trying to find myself, you know? So I disagreed with some of the policies, so what? I mean, all I did was issued a formal complaint, and I got "reorganized." That big dumb jerk Michael the Archangel drove me to it. They gave him WAY too much power, and he just used it to pick on me!

So the Big Guy decides he wants me to use my "creative energies" elsewhere and throws me into some stupid little subordinate branch for "undesirable souls." I called it Hell, you know, the root word of "hello." Very welcoming, if you ask me, but now it’s become a big negative and I’m stuck with it.

The whole operation was real small at first; I actually started to enjoy it and I think the people that came there learned to love it, too. But good things never last, as they say, and some of the other angels that got downsized started to come looking for work with me. It wasn’t like I could turn them away; after all, I needed the help.

Well, eventually, my little company got so big that I couldn’t even handle it all any more. We lost our sponsorship from Heaven, I lost direct control of a lot of my branches, and my workers just started taking everything their own direction. Why, some centuries there would be so much work I couldn’t even make routine checks on all the levels. The whole thing caved around me. I didn’t know my workers were turning my nice little afterlife home into an evil place, and I was stuck as the figurehead. Now, like I said, I get blamed for everything. Sometimes I just about start to cry when I hear about the horrible things people say. I mean everything… this that and the other is only serving Satan; he’s always trying to trick you into temptation. Well we gotta keep this place full, right? It’s called marketing.

I don’t even have time to take a break! Something’s always up, whether the boiling mud in the river Styx settles too low, or the temperature control gets busted in Malebolgia, or the philosphers in Limbo start fights with each other just to make the place interesting… it really gives me a headache. What am I gonna do, Doc?

(unfinished)