Say It Ain’t So, Joe (okay maybe it is after all)
Joe Pesci was so upset at the Monsanto Cloning Facility. The two chili dogs he cloned dripped sauce all over the Van Gogh painting he paid handsomely for earlier that night. “I really hate that, Christmas is ruined now,” he screamed, but then, when he wiped away the sauce, part of the painting dissolved only to reveal the painting was made in China! A copy! A fraud, he cried inside his mind. “Great just frigging great. Ruined by one of Sebastian’s favorite sandwiches. I’ll get that little pipsqueak that sold me this redone piece of garbage. Stuff his ass in the trunk and take him out to the Ponderosa where he can lay under the cold, hard ground with dozens of other’s I put there.”
As Joe walked outside, he started to think about Jaffar. “Wonder if that little zit has learned to read yet. Joe doubted it. After trying to explain to Jaffar about the three-way zipper, even after showing him ‘show and tell’ picture cards, Jaffar didn’t get it.
What a load of shplotzery this night has turned out to be. The holidays just don’t have that pizzazz any longer. Yeah, thought Joe, I need to bust some balls, that’ll make me feel better.
Getting in his car, he remembered a list of unitemized list of building materials. He smirked and said, “Oh yeah, I need to add cement. Gotta make sure I have the cement when I reach the Ponderosa.” He started laughing as he pulled away from the parking lot.
“Cement! Maybe the holidays won’t be so frigging bad after all.”