…Just as Bender was telling Fry to bite his shiny metal ass, there was a knock at the door and the sound of someone dry heaving.
“Come in!” Shouted Zumba.
Schwarzenegger walked in, bumping his gratuitously tall hat on the doorway.
Mr.T followed meekly behind him, one hand wrapped around a bucket, the other holding his stomach. His eyes were watery and very bloodshot.
Zuma stuck out a hand, “It’s an honor to meet you Mr. T.”
Mr. T’s cheeks puffed out, face turned green and quickly lowered his head into the bucket, “BWAAAAHHH!”
Mr.T heaved once more then stuck his hand out.
“Mistah T is getting vyorse by da minute. If we don’t hurry he might hyaf a brain heemrage and need brain surgery.” Schwarzenegger said grimly.
Mr. T pulled his head out of the bucket, “I pity da foo who needs brain surgery – they go through yerrs of physical therrapy.”
“Yes, nyeurosyurgery is sometheeng to avoid if yoo can.” Offered Schwarzenegger.
Mr.T started throwing up again. Schwarzenegger grabbed Zumba, “Aw yoo ready to go? A helicoptah eee waiting for yoo.”
“I’d like to finish my orange juice first if you don’t mind.”
Schwarzenegger flung him towards the sidewalk in front of his home and yelled, “I do mind! Now RUN! GET TO DA CHOPPAH!
OY! This story is running away from me, but I like where it’s going. Furthermore, I’m so busy that I’m contemplating giving up sleep. I’ve already given up eating and I’m fine; the purple leprechaun with the voice of Sean Connery assures me that I don’t need sleep either.
I told my neighbor about “LepreSean” and he said that I was hallucinating, that I should eat. I told LepreSean about this and said, “Thish ish intolerable…”I didn’t catch the rest because I passed out.
Anyway, my point is that I hope to have this epic tale of vomiting and the Rocky Mountain Aztec Gods tomorrow. Stay tuned!