The Brief History of Everything - OR - Recipe for Plastic Spoon
Chapter 2
Octoberary 20st, 1999
By: Wuckfad
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Chapter 2 - Hoggfarts to go.

"More particularly Hoggfart's ANUS!"
-Uncle Aunt Jesse (Later On)

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"Stick to your own jurisdiction Mahogany!" Screamed police chief
Ahyithat.

"It's all my jurisdiction when my goldfish shoots the town hamster.
Replied Jim Mahogany walking out of the ditch as he promptly ate the
secretary's secret stash of piranha farts." Replied Jim Mahogany
walking out of the ditch as he promptly ate the secretary's secret
stash of piranha farts.

That man. HJAHJAHJAH. They all had a good laugh and ate a box of kool-
aid.

Well, I'd tell you, that did not go over well with Sheriff Boss Hoggfart and old Anus. They chased down those daggdurn Duke boys all over the carpet. And when Hoggfart and Anus chase Dukes on carpet. Only the great one* will know what happens.

Puke Duke : Turn here, I hear that there is a stash of hookers on level
5. Just past the goombahs!

Admiral : Scree.

Duke Duke : Sure thang Puke. But we have to hide the Admiral in a barn
like we usually do. Or the Admiral wills gets all shots up when we all
get back.

Puke : Where will we find a barn at this hour of the boltfagratum?

There's one with an apostrophe! Over there, on the other side of the
sink : Duke Duke

Puke : Hold on to your damn scroatum! We are going to jumps a gas hole!

Hoggfart : I'll get you and you little scroatum too!

FREEZE FRAME

Will Puke and Duke Duke make it over the sink OF ETERNAL MOTHER CAR? Or
will Hoggfart and Anus?

-Commercial

Do like to hear the sound of a man falling down the stairs? Who
doesn't? Come down to Crazy Ignathious's house of Cadavers! Great for
using carpool lanes, filling up empty seats at sporting events, AND
THROWING DOWN THE STAIRS! AND THEY AREN'T RADIOACTIVE! PET AND
NAUGAHIDE SAFE. Get two for the price of five! They are just rocket
packing out the door. Get yours today, makes yum tasty good
samdwitches,.

* - Pat Sajak

-Commercial
Anus : DUHHHHHHHHHHHHHPOOFYDUHHHHHHHHHHHH

-Commercial
Therefor James Bond = 2 and Hookers = 3
James Bond + Hookers = 5
5 being the number that comes after 15718576171650000e10000000000 and
before -5 It must be right because my hotdog told me so.

-Show

We now return to Ducks of Peril

Uncle Aunt Jesse : They were good boys. All ways happy, always ripping
steaming greasies when no-one was a round. Those boyz loved their
farts. But now they are gone. Not so much as a peep now. And I
had saved up over seventeen billion ham slices from my secret
special moonshine for their university ed-u-cation. But they are
in a better place now. More specifically, Hoggfart's ANUS!

Hoggfart : What? They just sort of ended up there.

Uncle Aunt Jesse : It don't matter now. Because I have seventeen
billion ham slices and I can do whatever I do please I can. First off I'm GOING TO MISNEYLAND!

That's right! Come to MisneyLand, the frappiest place on earth! We have mice with no shirts, ducks with no pants, a dog that drive a car! And best yet! NONE OF THEM HAVE GENITALIA! Here's some satisfied customers! "It's fraptastic! Plus, the coyote urine is almost undetectable!"
"The best ride had to be the condemned mine shaft ride. I still can't find my leg!"
"I found someone's leg in a urinal!"
"I could barely taste the human feces!"

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Recipe for Plastic Spoon.
1. 17 compressed zebra farts.

"Hmm. 'Bob's House of Fart and Fart accessories'. This must be the place."
"Excuse me." said the frazzled chicken.
"Huh?" the clerk looked around frantically.
"Excuse me! I hear you sell zebra farts." explained the chicken.
The clerk looked down to see a small chicken with green feathers.
"Yeah we sell zebra farts. Why do you ask." asked the clerk.
"Umm yeah. I'd. Uh I'd like 17 zebra farts and a fart compresser to go along with that." the green chicken whispered.
"Just what are you trying pull little man?" the clerk asked suspiciously as the chicken hopped up on the counter.
"Listen bub. Here's my damn ham slices. Just give me my goods." The chicken said.
"Don't make me have to call the authorities!" The clerk yelled as he took the phone off the hook.
"Look. I'm building a plastic spoon. I don't want any trouble." The chicken explained calmly as he took out a monkey wrench and put it to the clerk's head.
"PLASTIC SPOON?!?!"
"SHH!"
"Plastic spoon? I thought that they were outlawed after those kid's blew that casino up." The clerk explained.
"Yeah I know, now just put the phone down, give me my goods and no-one will get hurt." The chicken told.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure sure. I'll give you your goods. One stipulation though."
"What is it?"
"Can I come with you?"
"Yeah, sure... I don't see why not." The chicken said happily.
The clerk ripped off his bright green apron and paper hat and the two outlaws ran out the door and jumped into the green chicken's '67 Cadillac Eldorado, peeled rubber and drove off into the sunset playing DaDaDa on the BassBlaster 500 (TM)
"My name is Hat. Oof Hat." Explained the clerk.
"Oh yeah. My name is Chicken. Green Chicken." Replied the chicken.
"My name is car. A car." Said the car.
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Bonus round!!!

Here at Misney Land, we have the bestest rides on Earf.
"Mommy? Why does that duck have no pants and no genitalia?" Asked the generic daughter of 8 years old.
"I don't know, lets get some cotton candy and a barrel full of cadavers at Crazy Ignathious's, we're having meat tonight!" Said the generic mother figure.
"Wait! Hold on, how are cartoon characters supposed to reproduce? You can't tell me that Daisy* and Donald* have never done it! I mean, he's wearing a sailor suit but no pant's is that an acceptable role model for today's generation? To walk around in public with no pants?!?!" Asked the generic daughter of 8 years old.
"Well. You see, generic daughter of 8 years old. That's just one of the many questions that were not ment to be answered. Cartoons live for ever. It's just the cartoonists that die of bowling balls in the nuts." Replied error0001nopicture.

Game Over
Please Insert 2,000,000 Rooster McMeatballs to continue.
5..4..3..2..1..0

* - Names changed to avoid spontanious combustion. The opinions reflected are not those of Speef Narkle Ministries but those of the participants.

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Questions? Comments?
Wuckfad
wuckfad@hotmail.com
-or-
wuckfad@bolt.com

Rip Farts, Not War.
Just Speef it.

Reefers for the legalization of Marijuana.
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