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I used to write some things of elongated rectal prolapse and goatse expertise. Let's see if I can still science fiction all up in here.

Victor was an expert at flinging sausages towards ostriches. One day he decided it was in his best itinerary in has that was itinerary to leap towards his ostrich as he chucked the sausage towards. I can assure you, it ended well.

As Vincent was checking his watch, he noticed a lone bingo card in his driveway. Quickly, he screamed "Yahtzee" and dove onto it. I can assure you, it ended well.

Since Vincenzo's wrath upon the surfboard purchasers hath swelled fervently, 29 Automatic Teller Machine machines exploded simultaneously. Gretel was furious about the bank foreclosing on her house, so she shot herself. No one cared, but I can assure you, it ended well.

There were 17 Mexicans involved with the shooting of 17 Mexicans. They were the same Mexicans that were shot, are you following me here? They weren't home at the time, so please leave your name and number after the tone.

"Popsicle", so they told me. "Diarrhea", so I told them. We argued for 20 minutes.

Heather didn't like it that Vincenzo broke her surfboard, so she bought him a skateboard. He snapped it in half and said, "I told you get pudding." She didn't like that the pudding had sprinkles on it, so she didn't give it him. She said it would bring forth another wrath of the ages. She was 15.

Some people asked me why it's relevant, so I told them it was best for business. Everything is my business, so everything I say is best for business. Vincent got sued for saying "Yahtzee" in public, because it was trademarked. To the best of your assurance, it ended quite well.

I stroke my leg sometimes. It's the forceps which bring out the best in your eyes. Lancelot was the most ingenious of the lance wielders. He brought out the best in people's eyes.

All's well that ends quite assuredly. To victory and back to xenophobia as the old wives' tales tell of their husbands. Enjoy yourselves; no one's here to stroke my leg.