The goldfish o’ Pechera swam round peacefully till the banana men came & put signs up round the sand castles & coral reefs.

“No trespassing,” 1 o’ them said gruffly when Guillermo neared.

“There was no problem with me swimming through this castle before,” said Guillermo.

“Rules are rules,” the banana man said with crossed arms. “Look @ this contract. You can’t argue with contracts.”

“Why, sir, I can’t see any text in this soggy paper,” said Guillermo. “It looks like your contract’s all wet.”

& that was how the goldfish o’ Pechera smashed capitalism.

A donkey, Gorilla Kong, traveled through the bandaging blizzards of Sherbet Slopes, only to be stopped by a wall made of chocolate ice. Since he knew fire melted ice, he plugged his laptop and waited for the ice wall to attempt to hack into it.

However, he realized he needed to input a key ’fore they could connect and have silicon sex.

He gazed up into the pink and cerulean sky & found the answer:

“Dawn.”

That was when he was finally reunited with his sister, Yankee Kong.

Jarod reached his arms out for the crown;
But the Mafia held it back.
“’Fore you can be king,
“You must solve the hardest math problem in the lane:
“¿How many mimes does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”
Jarod answered, “@ minimum 2, & they’d need a large lightbulb.”
“¿Why 2? ¿& shouldn’t a smaller lightbulb be easier, if anything?”
Jarod answered, “It’d be hard for a mime to fuck himself, ¿wouldn’t it?”
They set the crown on King Jarod’s head.
Then they all jumped in and started fucking.

The cinnabar forest was gleeful.
Its leaves & boughs danced
Whenever anyone entered,
Causing light & shadows to move back & forth.
It lured guests with its granny smith apples
& the promise o’ cover from the rain,
Which especially helped the homeless & hungry.
So enticed were the forest’s guests
That they found they ne’er wanted to leave.
They couldn’t…
They wouldn’t last long ’nough.
All that might remain were a few bones
Hocked up from the great mouth o’ the cinnabar forest.
& the wood’s branches & leaves swayed ’gain;
Pleased to have its stomach filled ’gain.

Mac was exhausted;
But no matter how he begged for sleep,
His cruel master refused.
He just stood there with his monitor bright,
Master constantly pushing his buttons;
& when he loaded programs a li’l too slow,
His master would rough him up,
Screaming & throttling his monitor.
But how could Mac do everything so fast
When he was so tired?
E’en when he was happy,
Mac’s master would oft drip coffee on his keyboard,
As well as Cheeto crumbs,
Or spittle on Mac’s monitor.
Despite this, Mac would stay loyal to his master,
As good computers do…
E’en if he was soooo tired…

Herby had thick red claws; ¿but what could he do with them? He tried catching fish, but he was too slow; he tried picking up shells, but his clumsy claws kept dropping them.

He was so sad, he stood in the midst o’ traffic, ready to die, only to be distracted by a screaming crowd. He crept closer to see a ticking time bomb, standing next to which was a shrugging man.

“Sorry; forgot my clippers,” said the shrugging man.

Then Herby came & clipped the wires. The citizens lifted him & cheered his name, only for all to be run o’er.

Moral: Never stand in the middle o’ the street.