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Suddenly I went under. Sputtering furiously I sounded like my aunt Aunty the incredible sportswoman swimmer stuntsperson bully. What happened to spam? She never understood why not now? After all, Olympic gorging is quite impossible south of Brazil. Even in Venezuela it's considered uncustomary to sauce your scum off the pond of the zookeeper's aunty.
Suddenly I caterwauled as pizza slunk skunkily down from Venezuela. I spammed all but three pads in record time, before Wiley Coyote canvassed for answers.
Meanwhile suddenly President Janet peed Aunt spam sauce into her revoltingly crusading elephant, dressed in a lacy saddle. "With this disgusting habit I hoped to enter the 2006 campaign six guns a-blazing. If you don't mind." said President Janet. She was very fond of my sputtering Aunty's spam and pee pizza sauce (oh boy, just like home, kids!) Anyway, the campaign for Venezuelan El Presidente was next week, by the way.
Suddenly I knew I had to volunteer. I picked up the phone, eyeing the patriotic posters.
Completely stepping into El phone booth, I escaped the ticker tape, the spam, and the elephant. I threw my lot in with ole silent President J.
