welcome to my crack party where we smoke crack and poop ourselves. let me introduce you to my crackhead friends. this is stinky lebrichael, this is fat mongo, this is enormous pete, this is gargantuan gary, and this is the artist formerly known as "...". I'm your host, Bumpy Braggle Boonky Banana Booger Bro, and this is my parole officer Stortz Stlungman. Ding ding ding! Uh oh! That's our storytime alarm! It goes off when, you guessed it, fat mongo eats a whole hamster. Bad mongo! We must kill mongo. mongo has escaped and is devouring manhattan! no mongo, nooooooo!!!! mongo is out of control!!! and i am still on parole!!! anyway i am hungry and i would like some crack cake. noooooo big mongo crushed the crack cake factory beneath his beluga sized foot! this is beginning to be an inconvenience! i must slay fat mongo. however i cannot leave my home due to the anklet i'm forced to wear by the state of new york. i must make it disappear. whoosh and bang and boom, it is gone via the magic of my shotgun! huzzah! uh oh! stlungman didn't like that! he is charging me with a knife! now i am in turn charging him with a knife! now gary is charging me $2.50 for the 2 liter of mtn dew i bought on his card! stingy prude! i am slain by sltungman. however i am soon revived by the sheer force of the concentrated crack running through my veins. i am invincible! i grow to enormous proportions and chase down mongo. mongo is angry! I ask him what is wrong, and a tear rolls down his cheek. he looks into my eyes and says "GRAAAHAHAHRHARHARHAHRAHRAHRHARHA" and i say "ok" and then i destroy mongo with my weapon (samurai sword). peace has returned to manhattan, but for how long? oh no!! i am out of crack!! where are the crack!! now it is time to embark on an epic crack locating journey. oh yeah baby, crack time. where should i look for crack? perhaps i will try the grocery store. excuse me ma'am, where is the crack isle? i must have crack! the crisp, resfreshing flavor fills me with vigor and vim! please give unto me the crack! heavens! shock and awe! this woman is a mop! a mop could never understand the pleasures nor the whereabouts of crack! i must take my search elsewhere. to outer space i go! womwomwomwomwomwom (flying saucer sounds) now i am on neptune. I ran into my buddy marvin the martian and asked him where the space crack is. he said something in french so i made him melt. i scoop some of his goo into a jar and escape through a black hole into the crack dimension! yes, finally! sniff, sniff... oh my! what is this odiferous stench which is so offensive to my olfactory senses? oh no! i am not in the crack dimension... i've accidentally entered into the crap dimension! i open up my jar of martian goo and drink it. suddenly i am dead! boom! i explode so hard i end up back on earth! wow! however i still have no crack. i look sadly at my crack stash which currently contains creck, crick, crock, cruck and sometimes cryck, but no crack. how sad! despair! i must have crack. it is crack time. i must find crack so that the prophecy of crack time may come true. enormous pete asked me where i had been. i destroy him. his life is fed into mine. i feel good. i am able to jump very high now, about 2 inches. i jump to france in search of fancy 5 star crack. i meet up with french superstar Choch Hoohhchchhman. he is wearing a thong and holding a gun and eating a whole crab. Taco Bell. taco bell? yes! eureka! i will check french taco bell for crack. hello, have you any crack? oh no! they d not speak english! i must destroy them. zzzzzzzap! they are gone forever. excellent! now i will search the store for crack. hmmmm... it seems to be crack-free. drats! i must find crack. i will go to portland. i arrive in portland via skateboard w/ jet boosters. i dismount thru a plate glass window. it is the home of skeevy steve, the local idiot bastard. yes, we are idiots. who said that "pk,imjnuhy7gcfvgb m help!!! dimensional shift!!!! now i am no longer in portland, but ortland, which is like portland but in the next dimesion over. it's 0.02% less hipstery. maybe that means there will be crack here rather than """artisanal CBD PBR gluten-freegan morgan freeman brownies""". hmm, maybe there is a crackman behind this dilapidated building. GASP! a seedy looking gentleman in a dark hoodie and sweatpants bvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvbgfbhftgtrhg surely this man is a... what!! another dimensional shift! now i am in rtland, which is like ortland but the next dimension over. everybody here is paul maccartney. i do not think paul maccartney partakes of crack. i must find a way out. i know! i will pee so hard that this dimension cannot contain the sheer force and thus therefore thereafter i will be warped to a different dimension. here we go! AAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that was quite intense. where am i now? hmmm... smells like poop and cheese. i must be in chicago. but is it MY chicago? let me see. i scream from the top of my lungs "a" and some fat jabroni says "eyyyo shut da hell up" and then i realize i am in new york city. the artist formerly known as "..." greets me with a firm "..." and, somehow understanding my plight, hands me a hyper omega laser katana. i eat it and am nourished. i then grab some crack from the cupboard so that i may use it to lure a crack merchant so that i may purchase crack so that i may utilize it in a manner which causes me to become """"""""""high"""""""""". just then a strange fellow steals the crack bag from my hand and eats it! no! my crack! i was going to use that to get crack! i am then able to identify this odd character as Skurnga Peng Spanker, the most dastardly bastard in all of hell. he explodes, taking half of my crackhouse with him. what can i do now? the bartist formerly known as "..." has been killed in the explosion. his corpse returns to dust, dancing and scattering playfully in the wind. now it's personal! i go to sleep for 49 years because i am a very sleepy boy. as soon as i awake i am floating in a void. eh? a void? how strange! this void smells of garbage and blueberries. interesting! where will this void empty out into? gasp! the burger universe! where all is a burger! i am now a tastey burgey! how strange! i must find a way to not be a hamburger. i know! i will remove my buns and become a salisbury steak. oh good lord the pain is excruciating!
suddenly, from betwixt the lettuce clouds emerges a strange horse. what a curious equine! it must not live. i blast it with my ketchup kannon� which i believe is actually a severed vein spurting a stream of my own blood. it does not feel pleasant. i lose too much bloodchup and black out. about 4.37 seconds later, i awake in a hospital bed, surrounded by professional wrestlers. why, that's Dastardly Cockman, The Butt-Chopper and even Funny Boy, The Evilest Little Guy Ever! the men are identified but the question is not answered. why are they here? just then, a small gremlin crawls out from under the bed and the shockingly muscular wrestlemen dogpile onto the poor creature. apparently the strange green thing had commited insurance fraud and had stolen a whole 15� from the Big Freakin World Wide Wrestlers Wrestling With Each Other All The Time Company, Ltd, Inc., better known as the BFWWWWWEOATTCLI, pronounced phonetically. Ugly Bastard Sixty-Nine, the worst wrestler ever made, entered the room and grabbed the goblinman from under the others and shook it by the ankles until a nickel and a dime fall from its skin pockets. oh good grief! the coins fell into a vent! the strong boys ask me to squeeze through and fetch the change. "and if i decline?" The Fellers� each pull out a big scary gun and point them at my dumb head. "then we will do this," and then they all fire their automatic weapons into my smelly idiot brain and i turn into a smelly idiot puddle of nothing. i wake up in a different hospital bed, this time, surrounded by ghosts. i ask them why they are a ghosts. they tell me that it is because i am also a ghosts. egads! i am a ghosts! this now means that i must communicate by saying ooooOOOOOooo and knocking over things in your cupboard in the middle of the night. even though Fat Mongo was a terrible person and a terrible place to live, i begin to miss him and his undeniable fatness. he was without a doubt Fat and also the Mongo. i realize now that i am a ghost which means that i can see Fat Mongo once more, but i must first travel to Fat Hell. i get on my ghost bike, which is much like a regular bike except very bad, and i travel to Fat Hell at fifty billion miles per second. i arrived in one second. i speak to the president of Fat Hell, which is Fat Ronald Reagan in an incredible hulk halloween costume for children and large babies. i ask him to let me see my boy, my baby, my pride and joy who is particularly enormous, and he says some words at me twice. i ignore him and enter the fat boy zone. i call out mongo's name and am soon swarmed by ducks. ducks are stupid so i leave. mongo sucks anyway. now for a new adventure which is indeed an old adventure which is indeed me looking for crack. this time, i decide to use the information superhighway, the... how you say... international network. i visit buy-crack-here.org and my computer becomes infected with a virus which demands my bank account information. i purchase a dictionary through which i learn the definition of the word "bank". very interesting. i throw the internet away. i must now acquire crack a different way. i inject my concsiousness into a robot working in the crack mines of oklahoma. yes! i am surrounded by crack! pure crack! if crack had human reproductive organs i would involve myself sexually with them. there is one issue in my situation, however... as i currently inhabit the body of a machine, i cannot enjoy the crack as i would in human form! i can simply admire its glistening glory, but, oh, the torment, i cannot partake of its intoxicating crackness! perhaps i can maneuver this robot in a way which causes it to be in my home right this very second, holding an enormous burlap sack labelled CRACK and containing CRACK. through sheer willpower alone, i proceed to pee myself a little. this does not accomplish my goal. perhaps one of the bad boys from the neigborhod i grew up in can help. i call upon skooger and skoojer, who are both serving multiple life sentences for having hair taller than the legal limit and for being generally unpleasant. perhaps dundoon can help me. unfortunately, he has been transformed via black magic into a steam engine. he is useless. i think i may call up crackalack, the crack-dealing crack dealer, who sells crack and who frequently gives free crack to those who call him over the phone. however he once said he didnt like my ridiculous shoes when i was 3 years old. the shoes were indeed ridiculous and very bad and also stupid and dumb, but i will not call him simply on principal. nobody shall disrespect me like that. i proceed to dial 1-800-BUY-CRAK and my phone recieves a virus which creates a small pastry every time i press 5. yes, that is correct, every time i press 5. that's the number 5. 5. 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 5555555555555555555. mmmm, yummy! these pastries are quite good! perhaps i could sell them for crack money. actually, upon second thought, this idea is stupid because it is bad and i dont want to do it. 5. my phone rings suddenly. i answer my phone, which had just rang suddenly. it is a man named hollywood jim, inviting me to hollywood hollywood, where they make movies about stuff. i tell him to buzz off and call him a cheese head and then i ask him how his day is. he tells me his day is monday. wow, a real live comedian is calling me on the phone! i feed him to the sharks. however, now that i am apparently in hollywood, i decide to take in the sites. sadly, this does not adequitely take the place of taking in the crack. i set fire to the entire state and head back towards manhattan before being stopped in my tracks somewhere in scotland by a man in a funny dress. he says "darg yern blivvy tooyah" or some such nonsense and does a little jig. i destroy his body and mind and scream like a gorilla giving birth. stinky lebrichael and gargantuan gary swoop down on a dope science fiction jetboard and tell me to hop on. i proceed to hop on top of them and they are both squished like enemies from super mario. i do not apologize. i take the jet board for a joy ride until it runs out of jet fuel and becomes a regular board. i snap it in half and poop on it. i suppose i will be walking home. on my quest i meet a troll who presents me with a riddle. i kill him to death and then super kill him to super death, because riddles are stupid. i search his pockets for a bag of crack but all he has is two bags of crack. that is too many. my search continues. once i reach antarctica, it is too cold so i turn back. on my way out of the country i realize that it isnt snow that covers the ground in antarctica, it is indeed crack. then somebody beats me up and tells me thats wrong. i dump out my 38 garbage bags full of not crack which has somehow transformed into liquid.
i arrive in egypt. the pyramids are magnificent. what secrets might they entomb? perhaps... yes... crack? i enter the largest pyramid i can find. strangely, i see no hyroglyphs or mummy people. all i see is rednecks and the like. oh! this is actually the bass pro shop pyramid. how curious! i ask for crack and am escorted from the premises bt two bipedal fish with back-mounted laser cannons. this has been one heck of a day! i fall through an open manhole and fall asleep violently upon impact with the ground beneath.
i wish there were video games in this sewer. as i awake, my dream is manifest when a crocodile eats my leg. good grief, i just remembered, that wasnt my dream! i dream of crack and video games, not brutal amputation via the medium of large reptile! i pull an enormous cartoon mallet from my pocket and whallop the scaly beast on the crocodile nutsack and he spits out my leg, which i then fasten back into place with zip ties and wood glue. the crocodile seems angry. i vaporize him with a mere glance, put on my ice skates, fall over and cry for around 45 minutes until my wailing attracts the attention of a space hog, which is much like an earth hog but which originates from outer space. the hog beckons me to mount its back, which i do, and it ignites its boost thrusters and we are soon exiting the atmosphere. i question internally why this hog is taking me away from my home planet, but this wonder soon subsides as i forget what i was thinking about.