As Bob Dean wandered the grounds of the mental hospital, he noticed a strange fellow. He was short, and round, with a shiny cowlick sticking up off the top of his head, his pants held up around his spherical belly with suspenders, and a tight shirt of horizontal red and white stripes. To Bob Dean, he looked a little like a beach ball. The thought made Bob Dean smile, and he reached out and thumped the man's gut like he was testing a melon.
The man did not appreciate this, and said, "What's so fucking funny, crazy old Bob Dean? Need your ass washed out with coffee?" And he extended one pudgy arm and flicked Bob Dean's long penile nose with his forefinger.
Bob Dean sputtered with rage. Unsure of what to do, he took both of the man's suspenders and snapped them very hard against his roly poly nemesis.
The man's face hardened, and he reached out with surprising quickness, and yanked Bob Dean's institutional pants down over his knobby hips, exposing his oversized boxers, threadbare and yellowed, his bony knees, and his socks held up by Saf-T-Garters, the kind they give lunatics so they won't hurt themselves.
Bob Dean saw red. He yanked up his pants, balled his fists and began wailing on the man's ears, again and again, until the little plumper turned and ran, but Bob Dean would not let up, chasing after the sweaty meatball, whomping him until the little round nutjob fell over on his stomach. Bob Dean then kicked him down a hill, and he rolled into a ditch, crying the whole way.
Triumphant, Bob Dean began to jump up and down, waving his arms. "I win! I win! I'm King Loon of the Doofus Empire!"
Suddenly, a low flying plane dusting the grounds for asian longhorn beetles ducked to avoid a flock of geese and accidentally decapitated him.
PRIDE GOES BEFORE DESTRUCTION