Famed Urethra Miner Gary Fishburns struts his stuff before excavating a new crevice. Way to go, Gary.

Two balloon harpies take the town by surprise, injuring hundreds and causing my camera to combust after snapping this lovely photo which I think is currently burning a hole through my dining room table that I took from Sears after they failed to after me an extended warranty on the two D batteries I stole from them, I think that's their store policy and even if it isn't, I don't care because I deserve that goddamn table. I fought for this country in World War I and I didn't waste my free time sucking in mustard gas so a couple limpwristed nancyfucks at that hardware store can rip me out of my hard earned graft. Go take a few hundred courses in customer server you manure mobiles.

Henry Dollins hugs the hairy lump. Don't ask; it's so frightening on so many levels.

The mysterious superhero Underwear Loaf dons his disguise before rolling out into the public and attempting to solve such pressing crimes as "where did all the fried chicken go?" and "there was fried chicken around before Underwear Loaf showed up and then it disappeared, so where did that go?" I once saw Underwear Loaf trying to hit on a parking meter, I swear to God.

Somebody tossed a fishing net and came up with this load of pale puss, so they did that whole "catch and release" program and threw it in the back of their minivan and dumped it off at the local Mary Mason concert with the rest of the white sacks of weeping bat semen that infest the malls across West Appleton City. If I see another one of these retards hanging out around the Hickory Farms, so help me God, I'm going to just snap and stomp their skull into the cracks in between the steps of the escalator. Ol' Rubber Hose Arms here isn't immune to this treatment as well, so he'd better start scraping some of that damn caulking off his face or else I'll grab him by the legs and drag him out of the back of my Chrysler down the I-84 at 90 miles an hour until all his facial features have been ground into a fine red paste that I can use to paint my garage.

Sand Troll shoots me the bird shortly before I shoot her into the street and repeatedly roll a wheelbarrow full of cinder blocks over her carcass. She looks like one of those mummies from that movie about the mummies and the head mummy, I forgot the name of it, it was the movie about the mummy.