I HATE YOU PAGE 165

Professor O' Mutant takes a break from his busy schedule of waxing the ol' cello so he can cross reference the list of people who have sexual harassment lawsuits against him. Better get a supercomputer there, fucko.

East Appleton's most famous export: the dreaded Goth Tree. Spray 'em with a few gallons of pesticide, just like I do with regular goths.

Al Darby introduced me to some of his geeky, pasty-faced loser friends. I introduced some of his key body parts to the light socket.

Bar Dwarves. Stay away, unless you want to see their "Pot O' Gold." No wait, that's leprechauns. Whatever. I don't fucking care.

A candid photo of Kitchen Elf, shortly after I used his skull to clean my toilet. All that grease will make sure there's not a log that doesn't slide right down that porcelain sucker.

Commander Moistyface catches a few Zs. Check the count on her shirt for the current number of chickens she swallowed today.