The Appleton City Ninja Attack Force. These guys like to pretend they're real ninjas and they're from Mexico or wherever ninjas come from. I hate Mexico and I hate geography and they shouldn't be teaching our kids this shit in school. Well not "our" kids because my only son is something like 38 years old and living in an apartment made out of shipping crates. Also I wouldn't want to take credit for the so-called "kids" running around this city, since most of them are nothing but compressed oatmeal and budding failure.

"ROOOWWWWWRRRR!!! What are you doing after work, baby? Why don't you put that tongue to good use? Use it to paint my fucking deck! ROWWWWRRR!"

If you have a band and hold tryouts in Appleton City, don't ask for people who play wind instruments.

The president of the local biker club, Hell's Rainbows. If you see a pack of these greasy titclowns driving around, you'd better keep your trunk shut tight if you catch my drift.

The Pasty Pastry Brothers, Football-Head Frank and Sack-Lunch Sal. I think they're superheroes or something. If they combine their powers together, they make the Pillsbury Dough Boy start weeping.

The soda ain't working, bloatworm.