Ever since our company's inception, our motto has always been "Fire bad, State Og good!" I like to think this still rings true today, in this complicated world. Special thanks this week go to: Don "Motorcycle" Jolly and Dennis "Corin Tucker's Stalker" Farrell.
A Plea For Sanity
This is our last communication. God. They're almost in here. I can hear them banging on the reinforced steel of the door. If only our benevolent higher-ups had built it stronger. Strong enough to keep them out.
We believed in the project, sir. We really did. There wasn't a single one of us who didn't think that genetically engineering Jack Russel Terriers with huge penises was a great idea. Jenkins, Rodriguez – we were all behind it 110%. We wanted to provide a low cost alternative for the flesh light. We wanted to cure testicular cancer in dogs. And we wanted pornographic movies to have a new source of long, hard cocks with unstoppable erections.
We weren't the problem sir. The dogs were.
We could not have predicted that they'd get so – aggressive. When Jenkins got his throat ripped out, well, we figured it was just a freak accident. But then, god, they developed the lasers. Who could have seen the lasers coming? Rodriguez didn't. Now what's left of him is melted all over the dog masturbation device of which he was so proud.
They're almost in. Tell my wife – tell her to keep the dog out at night, no matter how lonely –
THIS IS DOKTOR CLASCY. WE ARE WAGGING. ALL IS WELL. SEND TREATS.
Migraine Is Yourgraine
Headaches are nature's bees. They can single handedly ruin a family picnic, an intimate evening with your significant other, or a party (unless it's a headache party). Fortunately, there is hope. Utilizing our advanced researched of redirected pain theory, our new Migraine-B-Tim's pills immediately stop migraines by rerouting pain signals from your brain's receptors directly to my neighbor Tim. That guy's always coming over here and pestering me to return his tools, silverware, and cat. What's up with that guy?
How does this fantastic pill work? By ingesting it through your mouth, it enters your body and breaks up. Once absorbed, it's able to do stuff. The key principle of the whole thing is getting it into your mouth. I suggest looking at your hand as it moves the pill toward your face. Not too fast! You don't want to hurt yourself. Once your nose obstructs your view, a certain amount of guesswork is involved. Try to remember that your mouth is probably located above your chin. If your fingers are met with skin or someone else's vagina, back up and collect yourself for a moment before trying again.
That's not all! As our understanding of redirected pain theory expands, we hope to bring you new products to heal what ails you. In the works are Period-B-Steve's, Diarrhea-B-Tony Danza's, and Snakebite-Also-B-Steve's. Pretty soon, a wide variety of pills will be available to magically block out any feelings from reaching your fragile head! Imagine that!
Mmm Mmm Good-Like!
The FDA has waged a vicious ad campaign against our newly launched Baby Food-Like Product. First of all, the FDA should not be involved with this exciting and affordable product in any capacity. It clearly states at the bottom of every jar (on the inside, under the Food-Like substance) that it is for entertainment purposes only, and is therefore not a foodstuff. Second, why should you believe the FDA? Have they ever offered to give you a limited edition Baby Food-Like Product inflatable raft if your child develops a harelip or becomes permanently "wobbly" due to mysterious circumstances? No, I thought not.
Don't listen to the FDA's lies, which are being forced upon you with your own tax dollars. We're not advocating that you do anything dramatic such as refusing to pay taxes. We're simply asking that you overthrow your government violently, preferably using walkie-talkies and really cool sounding go-codes.
We're not going to solve gun massacres with bad manners, people.
The guns are gone. Now what happens to all those paper targets? Don't tell me you forgot about the paper targets. The ones hanging from little clips on fancy clotheslines at shooting ranges. With no guns to destroy these legions of paper bastards, they go unchecked.
A sign proclaiming "BACTA: DA FUTURE" marks the town's medical clinic
1998: I upload dave.pcx, and change the course of history
Set goals for yourself, and fulfill them. Absurd! Only in video games!
State Og... what is it? Who knows! Where do they operate? No clue! All we know is they're fairly evil, and nobody dares question the might of State Og!