W
ell, you are really a chicken, aren't you. I bet you were afraid of Michael
Jackson, back in the eighties. (We're all afraid of him these days...)
Well, chicken, you start to turn and run, just knowing that this guy has more
up his sleeve than he is letting you see, and you hear him pulling something
big out of his coat... A second later you feel a net wrap around you from
behind, and hear a short little weasel of a superhero laugh as you fall to the
ground.
A week later, the metro police department had to use the $50,000 they
found in your truck to build a seperate jail cell for you- The other prisoners
didn't deserve the stink of having you as a cellmate.
Begin again?