Twisted Yarn

as the hulk of a person came closer, and closer, and closer, a melange of smells assaulted the boys' noses. jason tried to pick them out individually - donuts, chocolate, fish sticks... "what's that one?" he thought to himself. it had a nostalgic quality to it, he couldn't quite place it. then the humongous creature's foot came into a tiny patch of light from some unseen source. "source... source... why did i just think the word source?" pondered jason. he started to panic as the realization came over him, his mind began racing, remembering going shoe shopping with his mother at payless after they'd see the new bogo commericals - "oh, no. no, no, no. anything but this. hasn't today been bad enough? fuck, how do we get away from--

jason's train of thought was cut off as star jones grabbed him and chris by the throat, pulling them up to her puffy, bloated face. they grimaced at her fried chicken/rotten milk/red hots stench emanating from her ketchup-smeared piehole.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU BOYS DOIN' IN MY WAX MUSEUM!!!" she hollered, then throwing them to the ground.

the last thought through jason's mind before he passed out was how pleasant it was to have a breath of fresh air after being captive to the breath of the massively fat shoe whore.