One day I was rollerbowling in southwest Lebanon when suddenly the girl of my dreams walked in. She stood in the doorway...the culmination of 12 (twelve) years of technology. The sun from the door accented her illustrious blond hair. She stared at me with her deep blue eyes and said "Funky". I was SO happy. You should've seen me. Holy. I knew I had to say EXACTLY the right thing... "Hi" I spewed. She laughed... we got married and had 127 kids. I liked it a lot. I told her about my birthmark and she ran out of the house screaming.
I realized my fatal mistake. Now I was alone in the house with 328 (they multiplied) hungry half human/half llamas (I DID mention that she was a llama?) Fuck, I didn't even know how to play quishel. I knew what had to be done. I got out my uzi and annihilated the living fungus out of my semi-children.
Ten years later I found myself on death row, just visiting, thank god. I promptly left and got a job in a deli. Every night I would work then go skeet chasing in the hills, if I could rent a dog to help me, but I never could so I didn't. I was making money. One day I had to wash dishes and got dishpan hands. I realized I was directly related to my boss.
Everyone died.