You Can't Put Cuffs On Mr. Cluck!

Men Are Like Shoes. Some Fit Better Than Others. And Sometimes You Go Out Shopping And There's Nothing You Like. And Then, As Luck Would Have It, The Next Week You Find Two That Are Perfect, But You Don't Have The Money To Buy Both."-

I Don't Think His Elevator Went All The Way To The Top Anymore, If You Know What I Mean

There’s Always Tomorrow.” “exactly,” She Said, Finishing Off Her First Doughnut, Selecting A Second. Maybe She Wouldn’t Starve To Death, She Decided. Maybe She’d Eat Herself Into Obesity And Explode. Death By Doughnut.

It Was Dark And Raining, With Bad Visibility, But This Was Jersey, And We Don't Slow Down For Anything.

One Of The Men Gave Butch A Bunch Of Volts With A Stun Gun. The Rangeman Didn’t Move Fast Enough, And Butch Grabbed The Gun And Threw It Across The Room. “hunh,” Rangeman Guy Said. “yeah,” I Said. “been There, Done That.” “are You Sure He’s Human?” “maybe You Could Hook A Chain To The Flexicuffs On His Ankles And Drag Him Behind Your Car,” I Said. “we Tried That Once, And Ranger Didn’t Like It,” The Guy Said. “you Do Something Twice That Ranger Doesn’t Like, And You’re Out Of A Job And Damaged.