Jokes – Stories #1

Big Bird Killed In Angel Dust Rampage
Associated Press, NEW YORK,2:55am

Big Bird, the famed friendly muppet of Sesame Street, had apparently gone on a rampage. Several muppets are known to be dead, including Prairie Dawn, Oscar the Grouch, and Bert — long time friend, roommate and occasional lover of Ernie.

The bird is now reportedly holding Maria hostage in a five floor tenement near Hooper’s Store. New York City Police and SWAT teams have surrounded the building.

4:26am

Big Bird, the Sesame Street muppet, is reported dead at this hour after an hour-and-a half hostage standoff with New York City Police. Kermit The Frog, Sesame Street Muppet on the scene, reports that as police stormed the five story tenement building where the bird was holding Maria hostage, Big Bird flew out an upper story window at them in a Kamikaze-like attack. Police SWAT units brought down the bird in a hail of automatic weapons fire. Dead are: Prairie Dawn, Oscar the Grouch, Bert and Big Bird. There is no information available concerning Maria.

8:47am

The Professor and his assistant, Beaker, muppet chemists, have reportedly found angel dust in Big Bird’s feed. Big Bird was killed by police early this morning after the bird went on a killing spree on Sesame Street. Maria, taken hostage during the ordeal, had survived unharmed. Three muppets were killed by the bird: Prairie Dawn (a friendly, pig-tailed muppet girl-child), Oscar the Grouch (a green garbage can dwelling grumpy muppet) and Bert (the famous gay paper-clip collector and pigeon friend). Authorities in the area report that the bad seed was purchased at the local Hooper’s.

11:15am

Police are asking all motorists and humans to stay away from Sesame Street today as tensions are running high among the muppets. Many reportedly are outraged at the tainted food supply and at how the police handled the hostage situation. According to bystanders on the scene at the time, Mr. Snuffalupagus pleaded with police to be allowed to talk Big Bird down. Instead, police stormed the building with deadly results. Ernie is said to be despondent over the loss of his good buddy Bert.

5:25pm

Violence erupted again on Sesame Street at five o’clock this afternoon. As thousands of humans driving home took a sightseeing tour of the scene of Big Bird’s deadly rampage, muppets became enraged. Hundreds of muppets, large and small, stalked the streets and surrounded humans in their cars. In at least one case, ten muppets pulled a motorist from his car and beat him with large, styrofoam letters. Police again arrived on the scene in force. At this hour, quiet is restored — but tensions are very high.

1:47am, the following day.

Police and fire units have been called to Sesame Street. Reporters on the scene describe a nightmarish atmosphere. Furry muppets ranging in size from only inches to seven feet in height are looting Hooper’s Store and firebombing the entire neighborhood. Card board backdrops, props, and storehouses full of numbers and letters are burning to the ground. Muppets are taunting firemen and police from windows high above the street with counting and alphabet songs.

9:24am

Morning light has brought an eerie calm to Sesame Street after a night of rioting. Smoke rises from most buildings. In the street, lifeless, crumpled fur lies in mute testament of the night of wild outrage. Unknown numbers of muppets have died or been shot to death by police in full riot gear. Here and there, a muppet — still animated with life — can be seen staring at the wreckage, or weeping vacantly at the rubble. The Count was reported running down the street crying and yelling, “Ten, ten lifeless muppet bodies!” No humans were killed in the rioting, although several people reported rug burns.

3:45pm, the next day

Ernie, gay friend and roommate of the murdered muppet Bert, broke his two day silence today with a eulogy address at a mass muppet funeral. The following is the complete transcript of his address:

“I come here today to honor a man I loved. A man who was loved by millions throughout the world. Bert was a giant among muppets. His paper-clip collection was viewed with awe by many of the world’s leaders. As President Obama campaigned on Sesame Street for the muppet vote, it was Bert who everyone turned to for advice. It was Bert who told us all, ‘Anyone who can hang as many paper-clips together as Barak Obama, can certainly run the country.’

“I also come here to honor Big Bird. Bird was such a loving creature. His large size and bright color alarmed many who first met him, but it was his innocent and curious nature which taught us all to love him. Bird wouldn’t have wanted us to remember him, or to memorialize him, with violence. All he ever wanted was for all creatures to just ‘get along’ with each other. Big Bird has come to a bad end, friends, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just some bad seed.”

AP Online.
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Air Traffic Control Humor
The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They not only expect one to know one’s gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.Speedbird 206: “Frankfurt, Speedbird 206! Clear of active runway.”
Ground: “Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven.”
The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop. Ground: “Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?”
Speedbird 206: “Stand by, Ground, I’m looking up our gate location now.”
Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): “Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?”
Speedbird 206 (coolly): “Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark, — And I didn’t land.”

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While taxiing at London’s Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727. An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: “US Air 2771, where the hell are you going?! I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it’s difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!”
Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: “God! Now you’ve screwed everything up! It’ll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don’t move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour, and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the humbled crew responded.

Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind. Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: “Wasn’t I married to you once?”

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A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long roll out after touching down.
San Jose Tower Noted: “American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able. If you are not able, take the Guadeloupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to the airport.”

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A Pan Am 727 flight, waiting for start clearance in Munich, overheard the following: Lufthansa (in German): “Ground, what is our start clearance time?”
Ground (in English): “If you want an answer you must speak in English.”
Lufthansa (in English): “I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?”
Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): “Because you lost the bloody war!”

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And the best one:

Tower: “TWA 2341, for noise abatement turn right 45 Degrees.”
TWA 2341: “Center, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?”
Tower: “Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?”
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Be Careful How You Break Up With Someone
Two high school sweethearts who went out together for four years in high school were both virgins; they enjoyed losing their virginity with each other in 10th grade. When they graduated, they wanted to both go to the same college but the girl was accepted to a college on the east coast, and the guy went to the west coast. They agreed to be faithful to each other and spend anytime they could together.As time went on, the guy would call the girl and she would never be home, and when he wrote, she would take weeks to return the letters. Even when he emailed her, she took days to return his messages.

Finally, she confessed to him she wanted to date around. He didn’t take this very well and increased his calls, letters, and emails trying to win back her love. Because she became annoyed, and now had a new boyfriend, she wanted to get him off her back.

So, what she did is this: she took a Polaroid picture of her having sex with her new boyfriend and sent it to her old boyfriend with a note reading, “I found a new boyfriend, leave me alone.” Well, needless to say, this guy was heartbroken but, even more so, was pissed. So, what he did next was awesome.

He wrote on the back of the photo the following, “Dear Mom and Dad, having a great time at college, please send more money!” and mailed the picture to her parents.
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Hell Explained By A Chemistry Student
The following is an actual question given on a University of Arizona chemistry mid term, and an actual answer turned in by a student.
The answer by this student was so ‘profound’ that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well
Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic (absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle’s Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving, which is unlikely. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. There fore, no souls are leaving. As for how many souls are entering Hell, let’s look at the different religions that exist in the world today.

Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than one of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. Now, we look at the rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle’s Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added.
This gives two possibilities:

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose.
2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it?

If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, ‘It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you,’ and take into account the fact that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct….. …leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting ‘Oh my God.’

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED AN A+.
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Living Wills
While I was watching football this weekend, my wife and I got into a conversation about life and death, and the need for living wills.During the course of the conversation, I told her that I never wanted to exist in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine, and taking fluids from a bottle.

She got up, unplugged the TV and threw out all my beer.

Sometimes it’s tough being married to a smart ass.
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Ten Of The Best April Fool's Day Hoaxes
NEW YORK (AFP) – From television revealing that spaghetti grows on trees to advertisements for the left-handed burger, the tradition of April Fool’s Day stories in the media has a weird and wonderful history.Here are 10 of the top April Fool’s Day pranks ever pulled off, as judged by the San Diego-based Museum of Hoaxes for their notoriety, absurdity, and number of people duped.

– In 1957, a BBC television show announced that thanks to a mild winter and the virtual elimination of the spaghetti weevil, Swiss farmers were enjoying a bumper spaghetti crop. Footage of Swiss farmers pulling strands of spaghetti from trees prompted a barrage of calls from people wanting to know how to grow their own spaghetti at home.

– In 1985, Sports Illustrated magazine published a story that a rookie baseball pitcher who could reportedly throw a ball at 270 kilometers per hour (168 miles per hour) was set to join the New York Mets. Finch was said to have mastered his skill — pitching significantly faster than anyone else has ever managed — in a Tibetan monastery. Mets fans’ celebrations were short-lived.

– Sweden in 1962 had only one television channel, which broadcast in black and white. The station’s technical expert appeared on the news to announce that thanks to a newly developed technology, viewers could convert their existing sets to receive color pictures by pulling a nylon stocking over the screen. In fact, they had to wait until 1970.

– In 1996, American fast-food chain Taco Bell announced that it had bought Philadelphia’s Liberty Bell, a historic symbol of American independence, from the federal government and was renaming it the Taco Liberty Bell.

Outraged citizens called to express their anger before Taco Bell revealed the hoax. Then-White House press secretary Mike McCurry was asked about the sale and said the Lincoln Memorial in Washington had also been sold and was to be renamed the Ford Lincoln Mercury Memorial after the automotive giant.

– In 1977, British newspaper The Guardian published a seven-page supplement for the 10th anniversary of San Serriffe, a small republic located in the Indian Ocean consisting of several semicolon-shaped islands. A series of articles described the geography and culture of the two main islands, named Upper Caisse and Lower Caisse.

– In 1992, US National Public Radio announced that Richard Nixon was running for president again. His new campaign slogan was, “I didn’t do anything wrong, and I won’t do it again.” They even had clips of Nixon announcing his candidacy. Listeners flooded the show with calls expressing their outrage. Nixon’s voice actually turned out to be that of impersonator Rich Little.

– In 1998, a newsletter titled New Mexicans for Science and Reason carried an article that the state of Alabama had voted to change the value of pi from 3.14159 to the “Biblical value” of 3.0.

– Burger King, another American fast-food chain, published a full-page advertisement in USA Today in 1998 announcing the introduction of the “Left-Handed Whopper,” specially designed for the 32 million left-handed Americans. According to the advertisement, the new burger included the same ingredients as the original, but the condiments were rotated 180 degrees. The chain said it received thousands of requests for the new burger, as well as orders for the original “right-handed” version.

– Discover Magazine announced in 1995 that a highly respected biologist, Aprile Pazzo (Italian for April Fool), had discovered a new species in Antarctica: the hotheaded naked ice borer. The creatures were described as having bony plates on their heads that became burning hot, allowing the animals to bore through ice at high speed — a technique they used to hunt penguins.

– Noted British astronomer Patrick Moore announced on the radio in 1976 that at 9:47 am, a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event, in which Pluto would pass behind Jupiter, would cause a gravitational alignment that would reduce the Earth’s gravity. Moore told listeners that if they jumped in the air at the exact moment of the planetary alignment, they would experience a floating sensation. Hundreds of people called in to report feeling the sensation.
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Selling Life Insurance
Private Jones was assigned to the Army induction center, where he was to advise new recruits about their government benefits, especially their Serviceman’s Group Life Insurance (SGLI). It wasn’t long before the center’s Lieutenant noticed that Private Jones had almost a 100% record for insurance sales, which had never happened before. Rather than ask about this, the Lt. stood in the back of the room and listened to Jones’s sales pitch.Jones explained the basics of the SGLI to the new recruits, and then said. “If you have SGLI and go into battle and are killed, the government has to pay $200,000 to your
beneficiaries. If you don’t have SGLI, and you go into battle and get killed, the government has to pay only a maximum of $6000.”

“Now,” he concluded, “which bunch do you think they are going to send into battle first?”
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Secret Cat Diary
DAY 752 – My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from shredding the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant and cough it up on the carpeting.DAY 761 – Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair…must try this on their bed (again).

DAY 762 – Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765 – Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was…Hmmm. Not working according to plan…

DAY 768 – I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called “shampoo.” What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth and the tiny bit of flesh under my claws.

DAY 771 – There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call “beer.” More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of “allergies.” Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 774 – I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.
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Successful Party Test
So, how do you tell if you’re throwing a successful, kick-ass, party? Just take this quick and simple quiz to find out!Festivity Level One
Your guests are sitting around chatting, nibbling the party food, sipping their drinks. They are admiring your Christmas tree ornaments and stand around the piano singing carols.

Festivity Level Two
Your guests are talking loudly, occasionally to one another. They are wolfing down the food, gulping their drinks, rearranging your Christmas ornaments and sitting on the piano singing “I Gotta Be Me.”

Festivity Level Three
Your guests are holding conversations with inanimate objects, gulping other peoples’ drinks, wolfing down Christmas ornaments and dancing around the piano shouting the words to “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction”.

Festivity Level Four
Your guests, food smeared across their naked bodies, are capering around the burning Christmas tree in some unholy ritual. The piano is missing. Unless you rent your home, or own heavy firearms, you generally don’t want your parties operating above Level Three. The true test of party success, however, is whether or not the police arrive. If they do arrive, your job as host is to see that they don’t arrest anyone. If they are intent on arresting someone, your job is to see that it isn’t you. Following is an example of how to successfully handle this situation.

Police: “We’ve come in response to the complaints.”
You: “Complaints? It isn’t about the drugs, is it?”
Police: “No, sir, not drugs.”
You: “The guns, then? They’re complaining about the guns?”
Police: “No, sir. It’s about the noise.”
You: “Oh, that’s all right then. ‘Cause there sure aren’t any guns or drugs here, heh heh.”
[An explosion sounds somewhere behind you]
You: “Or fireworks either! The neighbors complained, did they?”
Police: “No, sir. The neighbors all fled inland hours ago. The recent complaints have come from Kansas.”
[At this point a Volkswagen Bug, painted in various arcane symbols, roars out of the living room, down the hall past you and the policemen, out into the front yard and into the nearest tree. Eight naked bodies tumble out, moaning.]
You: “There, you see? It’s winding down already.”
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A Better Way To Live Life
The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A death. What is that, a bonus? I think the cycle is all backwards. You should die first. Get it out of the way. Then live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young. You get a gold watch and you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs and alcohol. You party. You get ready for High School. You go to grade school and become a kid. You play. You have no responsibilities. You become a baby. You go into the womb. You spend your last nine months floating…you finish off as an orgasm.
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Why Life Can Not Be Like Star Trek
There are so many Star Trek(tm) spin-offs that it is easy to fool yourself into thinking that the Star Trek vision is an accurate vision of the future. Sadly, Star Trek does not take into account the stupidity, selfishness, and horniness of the average human being. Allow me to describe some of the more obvious errors in the Star Trek vision.Medical Technology
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On Star Trek, the doctors have handheld devices that instantly close any openings in the skin. Imagine that sort of device in the hands of your unscrupulous friends. They would sneak up behind you and seal your ass shut as a practical joke. The devices would be sold in novelty stores instead of medical outlets. All things considered, I’m happy that it’s not easy to close other people’s orifices.

Transporter
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It would be great to be able to beam your molecules across space and then reassemble them. The only problem is that you have to trust your co-worker to operate the transporter. These are the same people who won’t add paper to the photocopier or make a new pot of coffee after taking the last drop. I don’t think they’ll be double-checking the transporter coordinates. They’ll be accidentally beaming people into walls, pets, and furniture. People will spend all their time apologizing for having inanimate objects protruding from parts of their bodies.

‘Pay no attention to the knickknacks; I got beamed into a hutch yesterday.’

If I could beam things from one place to another, I’d never leave the house. I’d sit in a big comfy chair and just start beaming groceries, stereo equipment, cheerleaders, and anything else I wanted right into my house. I’m fairly certain I would abuse this power. If anybody came to arrest me, I’d beam them into space. If I wanted some paintings for my walls, I’d beam the contents of the Louvre over to my place, pick out the good stuff, and beam the rest into my neighbor’s garage.

If I were watching the news on television and didn’t like what I heard, I would beam the anchorman into my living room during the commercial break, give him a vicious wedgie, and beam him back before anybody noticed. I’d never worry about ‘keeping up with the Joneses,’ because as soon as they got something nice, it would disappear right out of their hands. My neighbors would have to use milk crates for furniture. And that’s only after I had all the milk crates I would ever need for the rest of my life. There’s only one thing that could keep me from spending all my time wreaking havoc with the transporter: the holodeck.

Holodeck
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For those of you who only watched the ‘old’ Star Trek, the holodeck can create simulated worlds that look and feel just like the real thing. The characters on Star Trek use the holodeck for recreation during breaks from work. This is somewhat unrealistic. If I had a holodeck, I’d close the door and never come out until I died of exhaustion. It would be hard to convince me I should be anywhere but in the holodeck, getting my oil massage from Cindy Crawford and her simulated twin sister.

Holodecks would be very addicting. If there weren’t enough holodecks to go around, I’d get the names of all the people who had reservations ahead of me and beam them into concrete walls. I’d feel tense about it, but that’s exactly why I’d need a massage.

I’m afraid the holodeck will be society’s last invention.

Sex with Aliens
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According to Star Trek, there are many alien races populated with creatures who would like to have sex with humans. This would open up a lot of anatomical possibilities, but imagine the confusion. It’s hard enough to have sex with human beings, much less humanoids. One wrong move and you’re suddenly transported naked to the Gamma Quadrant to stand trial for who-knows-what. This could only add to performance anxiety. You would never be quite sure what moves would be sensual and what moves would be a galactic-sized mistake.

Me Trying to Have Sex with an Alien

Me: May I touch that?

Alien: That is not an erogenous zone. It is a separate corporeal being that has been attached to my body for six hundred years.

Me: It’s cute. I wonder if it would let me have sex with it.

Alien: That’s exactly what I said six hundred years ago.

The best part about having sex with aliens, according to the Star Trek model, is that the alien always dies a tragic death soon afterward. I don’t have to tell you how many problems that would solve. Realistically, the future won’t be that convenient.

Phasers
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I would love to have a device that would stun people into unconsciousness without killing them. I would use it ten times a day. If I got bad service at the convenience store, I’d zap the clerk. If somebody with big hair sat in front of me at the theater, zap!
On Star Trek, there are no penalties for stunning people with phasers. It happens all the time. All you have to do is claim you were possessed by an alien entity. Apparently, that is viewed as a credible defense in the Star Trek future. Imagine real criminals in a world where the ‘alien possession’ defense is credible.

Criminal: Yes, officer, I did steal that vehicle, and I did kill the occupants, but I was possessed by an evil alien entity.

Officer: Well, okay. Move along.

I wish I had a phaser right now. My neighbor’s dog likes to stand under my bedroom window on the other side of the fence and bark for hours at a time. My neighbor has employed the bold defense that he believes it might be another neighbor’s dog, despite the fact that I am standing there looking at him barking only twenty feet away. In a situation like this, a phaser is really the best approach. I could squeeze off a clean shot through the willow tree. A phaser doesn’t make much noise, so it wouldn’t disturb anyone. Then the unhappy little dog and I could both get some sleep. If the neighbor complains, I’ll explain that the phaser was fired by the other neighbor’s dog, a known troublemaker who is said to be invisible. And if that doesn’t work, a photon torpedo is clearly indicated.

Cyborgs
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Given the choice, I would rather be a cyborg instead of 100 percent human. I like the thought of technology becoming part of my body. As a human, I am constantly running to the toolbox in my garage to get a tool to deal with some new household malfunction. If I were a cyborg, I might have an electric drill on my arm, plus a metric socket set. That would save a lot of trips. From what I’ve seen, the cyborg concept is a modular design, so you can add whatever tools you think you’d use most.

I’d love to see crosshairs appear in my viewfinder every time I looked at someone. It would make me feel menacing, and I’d like that. I’d program myself so that anytime I saw a car salesman, a little message would appear in my viewfinder that said ‘Target Locked On.’

It would also be great to have my computer built into my skull. That way I could surf the Net during useless periods of life, such as when people talk to me. All I’d have to do is initiate a head-nodding subroutine during boring conversations and I could amuse myself in my head all day long.

I think that if anyone could become a cyborg, there would be a huge rush of people getting in line for the conversion. Kids would like it for the look. Adults would like it for its utility. Cyborg technology has something for everyone. So, unlike Star Trek, I can imagine everyone wanting to be a cyborg.

The only downside I can see is that when the human part dies and you’re at the funeral, the cyborg part will try to claw its way out of the casket and slay all the mourners. But that risk can be minimized by saying you have an important business meeting, so you can’t make it to the service.

Shields
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I wish I had an invisible force field. I’d use it all the time, especially around people who spit when they talk or get too close to my personal space. In fact, I’d probably need a shield quite a bit if I also had a phaser to play with.

I wouldn’t need a big shield system like the one they use to protect the Enterprise, maybe just a belt-clip device for personal use. I could insult dangerous people without fear of retribution. Whatever crumbs of personality I now have would be completely unnecessary in the future. On the plus side, it would make shopping much more fun.

Shopping with Shields Up

Me: Ring this up for me, you unpleasant cretin.

Saleswoman: I oughta slug you!

Me: Try it. My shields are up.

Saleswoman: Damn!

Me: There’s nothing you can do to harm me.

Saleswoman: I guess you’re right. Would you like to open a charge account? Our interest rates are very reasonable.

Me: Nice try.

Long-Range Sensors
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If people had long-range sensors, they would rarely use them to scan for new signs of life. I think they would use them to avoid work. You could run a continuous scan for your boss and then quickly transport yourself out of the area when he came near. If your manager died in his office, you would know minutes before the authorities discovered him, and that means extra break time.

Vulcan Death Grip
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Before all you Trekkies write to correct me, I know there is no such thing as a Vulcan Death Grip even in Star Trek. But I wish there were. That would have come in handy many times. It would be easy to make the Vulcan Death Grip look like an accident.

‘I was just straightening his collar and he collapsed.’

I think the only thing that keeps most people from randomly killing other citizens is the bloody mess it makes and the high likelihood of getting caught. With the Vulcan Death Grip, it would be clean and virtually undetectable. Everybody would be killing people left and right. You wouldn’t be able to have a decent conversation at the office over the sound of dead co-workers hitting the carpet. The most common sounds in corporate America would be, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a bigger raise, but …
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An Elaborate Funeral
A cardiologist died and was given an elaborate funeral.A huge heart covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service. Following the eulogy, the heart opened, and the casket rolled inside. The heart then closed, sealing the doctor in the beautiful heart forever. There wasn’t a dry eye in the audience.

At that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter.

When confronted later, he said, “I’m sorry, I was just thinking of my own funeral…I’m a gynecologist.”

At that point, the proctologist fainted.
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Bar Talk
A guy at a bar was looking to strike up a conversation, so he turned to the bartender and said, “Hey, about those Democrats in Congress…..””Stop…sorry fella, but I don’t permit talk about politics in my bar!” interrupted the bartender.

The guy sat silent for a few minutes, then tried again, “People are saying that the Pope…..”

“Hold it right there,” the bartender cut in. “No religious talk, either.”

A few minutes later, he again tried to break the boredom. “I really thought the Rangers…..”

“No sports talk! That’s how fights get started in bars,” the barman said.

“Ok, how about sex? Can I talk to you about sex?” the man asked.

“Sure,” replied the barman.

“Good. Go fuck yourself!”
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A Few Dinosaurs Short Of A Full Tank
When Mr. Dave Barry wrote this piece (“We’re just a few dinosaurs short of a full tank”) in the year 2000, I have to wonder if he knew it would be just as apt 11 years later as it was then.If you’ve been to a gas station lately, you have no doubt been shocked by the prices: $1.67, $1.78, even $1.92. And that’s just for Hostess Twinkies. Gas prices are even worse.

Americans are ticked off about this, and with good reason: Our rights are being violated! The First Amendment clearly states: “In addition to freedom of speech, Americans shall always have low gasoline prices, so they can drive around in ‘sport utility’ vehicles the size of minor planets.”

And don’t let any so-called “economists” try to tell you that foreigners pay more for gas than we do. Foreigners use metric gasoline, which is sold in foreign units called “kilometers,” plus they are paying for it with foreign currencies such as the “franc,” the “lira” and the “doubloon.” So in fact there is no mathematical way to tell WHAT they are paying.

But here in the U.S. we are definitely getting messed over, and the question is: What are we going to do about it? Step one, of course, is to file a class-action lawsuit against the cigarette companies. They have nothing to do with gasoline, but juries really hate them, so we’d probably win several hundred billion dollars.

But that is a short-term answer. To truly solve this problem, we must understand how the oil business works. Like most Americans, you probably think that gasoline comes from the pump at the gas station. Ha Ha! What an idiot. In fact, the gasoline comes from tanks located UNDER the gas station. These tanks are connected to underground pipelines, which carry large oil tankers filled with oil from the Middle East.

But how did the oil get in the Middle East in the first place? To answer that question, we must go back millions of years, to an era that geologists call the Voracious Period, when giant dinosaurs roamed the Earth, eating everything that stood in their path, except for broccoli, which they hated.

And then, one fateful day (Oct. 8), a runaway asteroid, believed by scientists to be nearly twice the diameter of the late Orson Welles, slammed into the Earth and killed the dinosaurs, who by sheer bad luck all happened to be standing right where it landed. The massive impact turned the dinosaurs, via a process called photosynthesis, into oil; this oil was then gradually covered with a layer of sand, which in turn was gradually covered by a layer of people who hate each other, and thus the Middle East was formed.

For many years, the Middle East was content to supply the United States with as much oil as we wanted at fair constitutional prices. But then the major oil-producing nations — Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait and Texas — got all snotty and formed an organization called OPEC, which stands for “North Atlantic Treaty Organization.”

In the 1970s, OPEC decided to raise prices, and soon the United States was caught up in a serious crisis: The Disco Era. It was horrible. You couldn’t go to a bar or wedding reception without being ordered onto the dance floor to learn “The Hustle.”

At the same time, we also had an oil crisis, which was caused by the fact that every motorist in the United States was determined to keep his or her automobile gas tank completely filled at all times. As soon as your gas gauge dropped from “Full” to “Fifteen-sixteenths,” you’d rush to a gas station and get in a huge line with hundreds of other motorists who also had nearly full tanks.

Also a lot of people, including me, saved on heating oil by buying kerosene space heaters, which enabled us to transform a cold, dank room into a cold, dank room filled with kerosene fumes. Buying gas and dancing “The Hustle” with people who smelled like kerosene: That was the `70s.

So anyway, the oil crisis finally ended, and over time we got rid of our Volkswagen Rabbits and replaced them with Chevrolet Suburban’s boasting the same fuel economy as a tank. Now, once again, we find ourselves facing rising gas prices, and the question is: This time, are we going to learn from the past? Are we finally going to get serious about energy conservation?

Of course not! We have the brains of mealworms; So we need to get more oil somehow. As far as I can figure, there’s only one practical way to do this. That’s right: We need to clone more dinosaurs. We have the technology, as was shown in two blockbuster scientific movies, “Jurassic Park” and “Jurassic Park Returns with Exactly the Same Plot.”

Once we have the dinosaurs, all we need is an asteroid. Or, if he is available, Marlon Brando.

If this plan makes sense to you, double your medication dosage, then write to your congressperson. Do it now! That way you’ll be busy when I siphon your tank.
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Believe It Or Not
Excerpt from an article about a bank robbery which supposedly appeared in the Dublin Times in May 1999:“Once inside the bank shortly after midnight, their effort at disabling the internal security system got underway immediately,. The robbers who expected to find one or two lage safes filled with cash and valuables, were surprised to see hundreds of smaller safes scattered throughout the bank. The robbers cracked the first safe’s combination, and inside they found only a bowl of vanilla pudding. As recorded on the bank’s audio-tape system, one said, “at least we”ll get a bit to eat”.

The robbers opened up a second safe, and it also contained nothing but vanilla pudding. The process co ntinued until all the safes were opened. They found not one pound sterling, a diamond, or an ounce of gold. Instead, all the safes contained covered bowls of pudding. Disappointed, the robbers made a quiet exit, each leaving with nothing more than a queasy, uncomfortably full stomach.

The newspaper headline read:

“Ireland’s Largest Sperm Bank Robbed Early This Morning”
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A Martha Stewart-less Thanksgiving
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I’m telling you in advance, so don’t act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won’t be coming, I’ve made a few small changes.Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead, I’ve gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match, and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait. I’m sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims, and the turkey hotline.

Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children’s recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We’ve also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like. In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table. In a separate room. Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony.

I stress “private”, meaning Do not, under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that “passing the rolls” is not a football play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread. Oh, and one reminder for the adults For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance.

Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; take it or leave it.
Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. She probably won’t come next year either. I am thankful, very thankful.
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Ballad Of The Bobbitt Hillbillies
Sung to the them song of the Beverly Hillbilly’s Come and listen to my story ’bout a man named John
A poor ex-Marine with a little fraction gone
It seems one night after getting with his wife
She lopped off his dong with the swipe of a knife.

PEN IS, that is.
Clean cut.
Missed his nuts.

Well, the next thing you know there’s a Ginsu by John’s side
And Lorena’s in the car taking Willie for a ride
But she soon got tired of her purple-headed friend
And tossed him out the window as she rounded the next bend.

CURVE, that is.
Tossed the nub.
In the shrub.

Then she went to the cops and confessed to the attack
So they called out the hounds just to get his weenie back
They sniffed and they barked and they pointed “over there!”
To John Wayne’s Henry that was waving in the air.

FOUND, that is.
By a fence.
Evidence.

Now Peter and John couldn’t stay apart too long
So a Dick Doctor said, “Hey, I can fix that dong.”
A needle and thread is all we’re gonna need
And the whole world waited ’til they heard that John had peed.

WHIZZED, that is.
Even seam.
Straight stream.

Johnny healed and he hardened and he took his case to court
With a half-assed lawyer cause his assets came up short
They cleared her of assault and acquitted him of ra pe
And his pecker was the only thing that wasn’t shown on tape.

VIDEO, that is.
Unexposed.
Case Closed.
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Age Is Just A Number
An 80-year old man goes to the doctor for a check-up.The doctor is amazed at what good shape the guy is in and asks, “How do you stay in such great physical condition?”

“I’m a golfer,” says the old guy, “and that’s why I’m in such good shape. I’m up well before daylight and out golfing up and down the fairways.”

“Well,” says the doctor, “I’m sure that helps, but there’s got to be more to it. How old was your dad when he died?”

“Who said my dad’s dead?”

The doctor is amazed. “You mean you’re 80 years old and your dad’s still alive. How old is he?”

“He’s 100 years old,” says the old golfer. “In fact he golfed with me this morning, and that’s why he’s still alive. He’s a golfer too.”

“Well,” the doctor says, “that’s great, but I’m sure there’s more to it than that. How about your dad’s dad? How old was he when he died?”

“Who said my grandpa’s dead?”

Stunned, the doctor asks, “You mean you’re 80 years old and your grandfather is still living! Incredible, how old is he?”

“He’s 118 years old,” says the old golfer.

The doctor is getting frustrated at this point, “So, I guess he went golfing with you this morning too?”

“No. Grandpa couldn’t go this morning because he’s getting married today.”

At this point the doctor is close to losing it, “Getting married! Why would a 118 year-old guy want to get married?”

“Who said he wanted to? The bride is pregnant…”
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Angry Passenger
A crowded United flight was canceled. A single agent was rebooking a long line of inconvenienced travelers.Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk. He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said, “I HAVE to be on this flight and it has to be FIRST CLASS.”

The agent replied, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll be happy to try to help you, but I’ve got to help these folks first, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that the passengers behind him could hear, “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Without hesitating, the gate agent smiled and grabbed her public address microphone. “May I have your attention please?” she began, her voice bellowing throughout the terminal. “We have a passenger here at the gate WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHO HE IS. If anyone can help him find his identity, please come to the gate.”

With the folks behind him in line laughing hysterically, the man glared at the United agent, gritted his teeth and swore, “Fuck you!”

Without flinching, she smiled and said, “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to stand in line for that, too.”
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The Hotel Bill
An older lady decided to give herself a big treat for her birthday by staying overnight in a really nice hotel.When she checked out the next morning, the desk clerk handed her a bill for $250.00.
She demanded to know why the charge was so high.
“I agree it’s a nice hotel, but the rooms aren’t worth $250.00 for just an overnight stay!
I didn’t even have breakfast.”
The clerk told her that $250.00 is the ‘standard rate’, and breakfast had been included had she wanted it.
She insisted on speaking to the Manager.
The Manager appeared and, forewarned by the desk clerk, announced:
“This hotel has an Olympic-sized pool and a huge conference centre which are available for use.”
“But I didn’t use them,” she said.
”Well, they are here, and you could have,” explained the Manager.
He went on to explain that she could also have seen one of the in-hotel shows for which they were so famous.
“We have the best entertainers from the world over performing here,” the Manager said.
“But I didn’t go to any of those shows,” she said. “Well, we have them, and you could have,” the Manager replied.
No matter what amenity the Manager mentioned, she replied, “But I didn’t use it!” and the Manager countered with his standard response.
After several minutes discussion, and with the Manager still unmoved, she decided to pay, wrote a check and gave it to him.
The Manager was surprised when he looked at the check. “But madam, this check is for $50.00.”
“That’s correct I charged you $200.00 for sleeping with me,” she replied.
“But I didn’t!” exclaimed the very surprised Manager.
“Well, too bad, I was here, and you could have.”

Don’t mess with Senior Citizens
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Coyote Vs Acme
In the United States District Count, Southwestern District, Tempe, Arizona Case No. B19345, Judge John Kujava, PresidingWile E. Coyote, Plaintiff
-vs-

Acme Company, Defendant
OPENING Statement of Mr. Harold Schoff, Attorney for Mr. Coyote:

My client, Mr. Wile E Coyote, a resident of Arizona and contiguous states, does hereby bring suit for damages against the Acme Company, manufacturer and retail distributor of assorted merchandize, incorporated in Delaware and doing business in every state, district and territory.

Mr. Coyote seeks compensation for personal injuries, loss of business income, and mental suffering caused as a direct result of the actions and/or gross negligence of said company, under Title 15 of the United States Code, Chapter 47, section 2072, subsection (a), relating to product liability.

Mr. Coyote states that on eighty-five separate occasions he has purchased of the Acme Company (hereinafter, “Defendant”), through that company’s mail-order department, certain products which did cause him bodily injury due to defects in manufacture or improper cautionary labeling. Sales slips made out to Mr. Coyote as proof of purchase are at present in the possession of the Court, marked Exhibit A.

Such injuries sustained by Mr. Coyote have temporarily restricted his ability to make a living in his profession of predator. Mr. Coyote is self-employed and thus not eligible for workman’s Compensation.

Mr. Coyote states that on December 13th he received of Defendant via parcel post one Acme Rocket Sled. The intention of Mr. Coyote was to use the Rocket Sled to aid him in pursuit of his prey. Upon receipt of the Rocket Sled Mr. Coyote removed it from its wooden shipping crate and, sighting his prey in the distance, activated the ignition. As Mr. Coyote gripped the handlebars, the Rocket Sled accelerated with such sudden and precipitate force as to stretch Mr. Coyote’s forelimbs to a length of fifty feet.

Subsequently, the rest of Mr. Coyote’s body shot forward with a violent jolt, causing severe strain to his back and neck and placing him unexpectedly astride the Rocket Sled. Disappearing over the horizon at such speed as to leave a diminishing jet trial along its path, the Rocket Sled soon brought Mr. Coyote abreast of his prey. At that moment the animal he was pursing veered sharply to the right. Mr. Coyote vigorously attempted to follow this maneuver but was unable to, due to poorly designed steering on the Rocket Sled and a faulty or nonexistent braking system. Shortly thereafter, the unchecked progress of the Rocket Sled brought it and Mr. Coyote into collision with the side of a mesa.

Paragraph One of the Report of Attending Physician (Exhibit B), prepared by Dr. Ernest Grosscup, M.D., D.O., details the multiple fractures, contusions, and tissue damage suffered by Mr. Coyote as a result of this collision. Repair of the injuries required a full bandage around the head (excluding the ears), a neck brace, and full or partial casts on all four legs.

Hampered by these injuries, Mr. Coyote was nevertheless obliged to support himself. With this in mind, he purchased of Defendant as an aid to mobility one pair of Acme Rocket Skates. When he attempted to use this product, however, he became involved in an accident remarkably similar to that which occurred with the Rocket Sled.

Again, Defendant sold over the counter, without caveat, a product which attached powerful jet engines (in this case, two) to inadequate vehicles, with little or no provision for passenger safety. Encumbered by his heavy casts, Mr. Coyote lost control of the Rocket Skates soon after strapping them on, and collided with a roadside billboard so violently as to leave a hole in the shape of his full silhouette.

Mr. Coyote states that on occasions too numerous to list in this document he has suffered mishaps with explosives purchased of Defendant: the Acme “Little Giant” Firecracker, the Acme Self-Guided Aerial Bomb, etc. (For a full listing, see the Acme Mail Order Explosives Catalog and attached deposition, entered in evidence as Exhibit C.) Indeed, it is safe to say that not once has an explosive purchased of Defendant by Mr. Coyote performed in an expected manner.

To cite just one example: At the expense of much time and personal effort, Mr. Coyote constructed around the outer rim of a butte a wooden trough beginning at the top of the butte and spiraling downward around it to some few feet above a black X painted on the desert floor. The trough was designed in such a way that a spherical explosive of the type sold by Defendant would roll easily and swiftly down to the point of detonation indicated by the X. Mr. Coyote placed a generous pile of birdseed directly on the X, and then, carrying the spherical Ace Bomb (Catalog #78- 832), climbed to the top of the butte. Mr. Coyote’s prey, seeing the birdseed, approached, and Mr. Coyote proceeded to light the fuse. In an instant, the fuse burned down to the stem, causing the bomb to detonate.

In addition to reducing all Mr. Coyote’s careful preparations to naught, the premature detonation of Defendant’s product resulted in the following disfigurements to Mr. Coyote;

  1. Severe singing of the hair on the head, neck and muzzle.
  2. Sooty discoloration.
  3. Fracture of the left ear at the stem, causing the ear to dangle in the aftershock with a creaking noise.
  4. Full or partial combustion of whiskers, producing kinking, frazzling and ashy disintegration.
  5. Radical widening of the eyes, due to brow and lid charring.

We come now to the Acme Spring-powered Shoes. The remains of a pair of these purchased by Mr. Coyote on June 23rd are Plaintiff’s Exhibit D. Selected fragments have been shipped to the metallurgical laboratories of the University of California at Santa Barbra for analysis, but to date no explanation has been found for this product’s sudden and extreme malfunction. As advertised by Defendant, this product is simplicity itself: two wood-and-metal sandals, each attached to milled-steel springs of high tensile strength and compressed in a tightly coiled position by a cocking device with a lanyard release. Mr. Coyote believed that this product would enable him to pounce upon his prey in the initial moments of the chase, when swift reflexes are at a premium.

To increase the shoe’s thrusting power still further, Mr. Coyote affixed them by their bottoms to the side of a large boulder. Adjacent to the boulder was a path which Mr. Coyote’s prey was known to frequent. Mr. Coyote put his hind feet in the wood-and- metal sandals and crouched in readiness, his right forepaw holding firmly to the lanyard release. Within a short time Mr. Coyote’s prey did indeed appear on the path coming toward him. Unsuspecting, the prey stopped near Mr. Coyote, well within range of the springs at full extension. Mr. Coyote gauged the distance with care and proceeded to pull the lanyard release.

At this point, Defendant’s product should have thrust Mr. Coyote forward and away from the boulder. Instead, for reasons yet unknown, the Acme Spring-Powered Shoes thrust the boulder away from Mr. Coyote. As the intended prey looked on unharmed, Mr. Coyote hung suspended in air. Then the twin springs uncoiled, bringing Mr. Coyote to a violent feet-first collision with the boulder, the full weight of his head and forequarters falling upon his lower extremities.

The force of this impact then caused the springs to rebound, whereupon Mr. Coyote was thrust skyward. A second recoil and collision followed. The boulder, meanwhile, which was roughly ovoid in shape, had begun to bounce down a hillside, the coiling and recoiling of the springs adding to its velocity. At each bounce, Mr. Coyote came in contact with the boulder, or the boulder came into contact with Mr. Coyote, or both came into contact with the ground. As the grade was a long one, this process continued for some time.

The sequence of collisions resulted in systemic physical damage to Mr. Coyote, viz, flatting of the cranium, sideways displacement of the tongue, reduction of length of legs and upper body, and compression of vertebrae from base of tail to head. Repetition of blows along a vertical axis produced a series of regular horizontal folds in Mr. Coyote’s body tissues —- a rare and painful condition which caused Mr. Coyote to expand upward and downward alternately as he walked, and to emit an off-key, accordion like wheezing with every step. The distracting and embarrassing nature of this symptom has been a major impediment to Mr. Coyote’s pursuit of a normal social life.

As the Count is no doubt aware, Defendant has a virtual monopoly of manufacture and sale of goods required by Mr. Coyote’s work. It is our contention that Defendant has used its market advantage to the detriment of the consumer of such specialized products as itching powder, giant kites, Burmese tiger traps, anvils, and two-hundred-foot-long rubber bands. Much as he has come to mistrust Defendant’s products, Mr. Coyote has no other source of supply to which to turn. One can only wonder what our trading partners in Western Europe and Japan would make of such a situation, where a giant company is allowed to victimize the consumer in the most reckless and wrongful manner over and over again.

Mr. Coyote respectfully requests that the Court regard these larger economic implications and assess punitive damages in the amount of seventeen million dollars. In addition, Mr. Coyote seeks actual damages (missed meals, medical expenses, days lost from professional occupation) of one million dollars; general damages (mental suffering, injury to reputation) of twenty million dollars; and attorneys’ fees of seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Total damages: thirty-eight million seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. By awarding Mr. Coyote the full amount, this court will censure Defendant, its directors, officers, shareholders, successors, and assigns, in the only language they understand, and reaffirm the right of the individual predator to equal protection under the law.
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