The Night Before TestimonyDecember 22, 2003 'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
not one soul was stirring, besides the bodyguard Klaus as noble Rok Finger and his Russian child bride sought shelter from the mob with the ol' FBI it started with gangwars, then things really took off when the death threats rolled in, all addressed to Rok "You've killed more Italians in your short troubled time than a Coppola film and Mussolini combined, pack your bags, little shit, you're going on a trip to a room where your neighbors are plankton and fish." Like a mousetrap sprang Rok from his tiny night bed and crushed the skull of some poor mouse's head, "Quick, dear Felchyana," he said to his wife, "pack your shit quick and run for your life! Those fat goomba bullies have put me on their list and they all want a piece of the Rok from St. Nick!" When who through the door should wondrously appear but a big mick named Nicky and his black friend Amir. "It appears you've pissed off the wrong people," he said, "I'm afraid you'll be spending this Christmas quite dead." Oh, shit, good people, things looked quite dim for our three-foot hero and what-ser-name with him when who should appear, right out of thin air but Rok Finger's old pal, wheelchair-bound Camembert! He was not armed, but Cam did scream so non-stop every neighbor on the block promptly phoned the cops. They arrived with guns blazing and clubs swinging free unaware of the danger, but hey, they're N.Y.P.D. Old Rok spilled his guts in a new record time and begged for protection from the dear FBI. They wasted no time, and hauled Rok away to meet with J. Edgar or whoever runs it today With the dirt Rok had on Yogi, Mario, and all, the state prisons will soon be packed wall to wall. Rok gets probation and time served—how cool! "It's the way we reward you for being a stool." And with those kind words the agent disappeared in the night for survivalists in Montana waited to pick a fight, For Rok and Felchyana, they planned the best Christmas yet though they were as far from civilization as you could now get, "But we'll enjoy the grim situation, no matter what 'tis, or wherever the hell this 'Fargo' place is." So with prospects all brighter, things turned out great in the end except for poor Camembert, sentenced from five to ten. Quote of the Day“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores... uh, on second thought, scratch that. If I can pick, don't give me any losers.”-Emily Dickinsome Fortune 500 CookieGive up the ghost this week—everybody knows you're drawing those eyebrows on with a magic marker. You may only be a gigolo, but that doesn't mean anybody wants to hear you sing about it. Try naming a constellation after yourself: it worked for that "Chantilly Lace" guy. This week's lucky pets: salamander, ostrich, rutabaga, cow fetus, bottle of deadly germs.Try again later. Top Excuses for Ugly Hat
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