Poop Smells: The Revolution

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The Triumphant Return of Fish Taco

I finally got an e-mail from someone. I don't know who this is, but his name on the e-mail was Horace Vickers.

FISH TACOES THE DEMONMONKEYS SPEAK TO MY BRAIN SPLEEN OF HARMONY AND CHIPMUNKS END THE TORMENT TORPEDOES OF BEEF THAT FLY THROUGH THE TRUMP SECTOR AND INTO THE KENNEDY PLEASURE WORLD OF FINE POULTRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Horace Vickers?,

I have no idea who you are, but reading that makes me think you are retarded or on drugs, maybe even both, no one knows. But, whatever your problem or whatever thing you are doing I guess I have to help. The Demon Monkeys are talking to your brain spleen of harmony and chipmunks eh? Well, that is easily solved, you are gonna die. There is no avoiding it, unless you drink a cup of blended spam. That was a lie, you will die. Actually, there is one way you won't die from that, and that is to get in front of the torpedoes of beef that fly into the Kennedy Pleasure Center, so you die from that. If you think about it though, in theory you are still dying from the brain spleen thing because the only reason you jumped in front of one of those beef torpedoes is because the brain spleen harmony.

So, take my advice and die.

Enjoy the Quiznos,
Fish Taco

Not Fish Taco, but Ed

Keep sending e-mails to adamgrinciusiscool@gmail.com