Ryan Parker practices his cat-fucking position.

"ROWWWWRRRR! How the hell would you know what a cat-fucking position looks like, you brain addled shitsock? RAWWWRRR!"

Don't fucking start with me, Uglycat, or I'll jam a pair of knitting needles into your Godless eyesockets.

"ROWWWWRRRR! Bring it on, you fat old fuck! RAWWWRRR!"

Pillsbury the Satanic Chef prepares another batch of Troll House cookies.

"I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 1000."

Gah, fuck that, her bloated skull is so huge, I bet she's thinking of EVERY goddamn number between 1 and 1000.

He used to command a spaceship... now he can barely command his bowels. Oh poor, poor little Captain Ham Salad.

Her family calls her "Elizabeth." I call her "The Human Bottle Opener." I once had a globe like that one in the background. I think some little shit down the street stole it when I had a garage sale. I think he's the same moron who took the head off my garden hose out back. If I ever catch that filthy little SOB, I'm going to light her body on fire and FedEx it to NAMBLA.

JACKASS ON LEFT: Getting the power up.

MENTAL MIDGET ON RIGHT: Winning the game.

HANDSOME VET BEHIND THE COUCH: Reloading the shotgun.