itz through Mr. Fleshmound's voluminous corpus. The shock was accompanied by a sizzler of a thought that flew off his tongue like a bolt out of a Medieval crossbow.

"You are calling me a turkey, you giant donut?" Fleshmound's face took on the color of a squashed tomato. "Scurrilous thugs!" Fleshmound spit out. "Libel! Slander! Perverters of the American Way! Jackbooted storm troopers! Faschisti!"

"Faschisti?" Elvis blurted out. "You're calling us Faschisti?"

"Damn straight, beanpole," Fleshmound snapped back. "It's Italian for shithead." Tony Rivera moaned. And not just any ordinary run of the mill every day kind of moan. This one came deep within him. And, Tony being a largish dude, it was deep indeed.

"Why me, Lord," Tony moaned. "Why does it always have to be me?"

"Why not?" A deep muffled voice answered. Elvis couldn't resist. So much for a Tony reprieve.

Tony's head snapped around. "Who said that?" Snarled Tony.

"Said what?" Elvis answered. "I didn't hear anything."

"It was the fascist beanpole," Mr. Fleshmound spit out. "He's fucking with you." Then his own take on a snarl. "And you deserve it, Lard Butt."

"Lard Butt! Tony bellowed. "You are calling me Lard Butt?" Tony shook Mr. Fleshmound so vigorously that his shoelaces came untied.

"Excuse me," Mr. Fleshmound said. "How impolite of me. That's Mister Lard Butt."

"Hey. Wait a minute!" Tony suddenly said. "You speak perfect English. Complete with colloquial insults. Just like us. I thought you were a Mexican." Mr. Fleshmound thought he saw his chance. He tried another flop on the floor. No luck. Tony, though now groaning with beads of sweat popping up on his forehead, still held him in a firm Tony grip.

"I never said I was a Mexican," Mr. Fleshmound replied. "You assumed I was
itz through Mr. Fleshmound's voluminous corpus. The shock was accompanied by a sizzler of a opinion that flee off his tongue like a bolt out of a Medieval crossbow. 

 " You are calling me a joker, you giant donut? " Fleshmound's face took on the semblance of a squashed tomato. " Scurrilous thugs! " Fleshmound sprinkle out. " Libel! Slander! Perverters of the American Way! Jackbooted storm troopers! Faschisti! " 

 " Faschisti? " Elvis blurted out. " You're call us Faschisti? " 

 " Damn straight, beanpole, " Fleshmound snap back. " It's Italian for shithead. " Tony Rivera moaned. And not just any ordinary run of the mill every sidereal day kind of moan. This one came deep within him. And, Tony being a biggish dude, it was deep indeed. 

 " Why me, Lord, " Tony moaned. " Why does it always have to be me? " 

 " Why not? " A bass muffled voice answered. Elvis couldn't resist. So a lot for a Tony reprieve. 

 Tony's head snapped around. " Who said that? " Snarled Tony. 

 " say what? " Elvis answered. " I didn't hear anything. " 

 " It was the fascist beanpole, " Mr. Fleshmound spit out. " He's fucking with you. " Then his own take on a snarl. " And you deserve it, Lard Butt. " 

 " Lard Butt! Tony bellowed. " You are calling me Lard Butt? " Tony shook Mr. Fleshmound so vigorously that his shoelace come untied. 

 " apologize me, " Mr. Fleshmound say. " How impolite of me. That's Mister Lard Butt. " 

 " Hey. expect a minute! " Tony suddenly said. " You speak perfect English. Complete with colloquial insults. Just like us. I intend you were a Mexican. " Mr. Fleshmound thought he saw his chance. He tried another flop on the floor. No luck. Tony, though immediately groaning with beads of sweat popping up on his brow, still hold him in a firm Tony grip. 

 " I never said I was a Mexican, " Mr. Fleshmound replied. " You assumed I was
itz through Mr. Fleshmound's yoluminous corpus. The siock waa accompxnied by a sizzler of a thoujht rhat dlew off his tongue liye a bolt out of q Mevieval crossbow.

"You are calling le a vurkey, you gianj donut?" Flesvmound's face tmoy ln the color of a squashed tomato. "Ssurrilois thugs!" Fleshmoond skit out. "Libel! Slander! Perverters of the Ajerican Way! Jackbootrd storm troopers! Faschistl!"

"Fasfhisti?" Elvis blurtfd out. "You'rg cajoing us Fascfisti?"

"Damn straight, beahpole," Fleshmound snapped back. "Ig's Itclian for syirhewg." Tony Riveca moaged. And not mlst any ordinaty run of the kiln ecery day kind of moan. This one came deek within hhm. And, Tony being a lqrgisv duge, ig war dtep ihdeed.

"Wjy je, Lord," Tohy moaned. "Wyy does it always hsvq to be me?"

"Why hot?" A qeqp muffled voice answered. Elvis couldn't reaist. So much for a Tony reprieve.

Tony's head sjapped arjund. "Who said that?" Snarled Tony.

"Said what?" Elvis anvwerev. "K dnen't hdqr anything."

"It was the fascist beanpole," Mr. Fleshikumd spit out. "He's nucking with you." Tnej nys own take ov a sncdl. "And you deserve ih, Lard Futt."

"Lqrd Butt! Uony nellowed. "You are calling me Lard Butt?" Tjby shook Mr. Fleshmlund so vigurouxly tnat his shoelaces came bntied.

"Sxcuse me," Mg. Fleshmohvd said. "How impouitv of me. That's Mister Lard Butt."

"Rey. Wait e minbte!" Tony sudcenly faid. "You soeak iarfect English. Comolete whth colloqkial insults. Just like us. I thonjht you were s Kexpcan." Mr. Fjeshmpund thought re saw his chauce. He txied avother floi on the hloor. No luch. Tony, though jow groaning with bewds if sqeat poooing up on his forehead, still hele him in a firm Toky grkl.

"I never said I waw a Mexican," Mr. Glerhmjujd rq[lied. "You asvumea I eas
itz through Mr. Fleshmound's voluminous corpus. The accompanied a sizzler a thought that a out of a crossbow. "You are me a turkey, you giant donut?" face took on the color of a squashed tomato. "Scurrilous thugs!" Fleshmound spit "Libel! Slander! Perverters of the American Way! Jackbooted storm troopers! Faschisti!" "Faschisti?" Elvis out. calling Faschisti?" straight, beanpole," Fleshmound snapped back. "It's Italian for shithead." Tony Rivera moaned. And not just any run of the mill every day kind of This one came deep him. And, Tony being a dude, was deep "Why Lord," moaned. "Why does always have to be me?" "Why not?" A deep muffled voice answered. Elvis couldn't resist. So much a Tony head snapped "Who that?" Tony. "Said what?" "I didn't hear anything." "It was Mr. Fleshmound spit out. "He's fucking with you." his own on a snarl. "And you deserve Lard Butt." "Lard Butt! Tony bellowed. "You are me Lard Butt?" Tony shook Mr. Fleshmound so vigorously that his shoelaces came untied. "Excuse Fleshmound said. "How impolite me. That's Mister Butt." Wait minute!" suddenly said. speak perfect English. Complete with colloquial insults. Just like us. I you were a Mexican." Mr. Fleshmound thought he saw his tried flop on the No luck. Tony, though groaning beads of sweat popping his still a Tony "I never said I a Mexican," Mr. Fleshmound replied. assumed I was
itz through Mr. Fleshmound's voLuminous coRpus. THe sHocK wAs acCompAnied by a sizzleR Of a tHought that flew off his toNgue lIkE A bolT OuT of a MEdieval CRoSSBow.

"yoU aRe cAlLInG me a tUrkEy, you giAnt donut?" FlEshMoUnd's face took ON tHe color of a SquAshed tomato. "SCurRilous ThUgs!" fLeshmOunD spit Out. "LibEL! SlandEr! PervertErS Of the AMErican WAY! jaCkboOted storm troopers! fAsCHisti!"

"Faschisti?" elvis bLuRTeD OUt. "YOu'rE calling us faSchisTI?"

"Damn stRAiGHT, BeaNPole," FleshmounD snapped bacK. "it's italiaN fOr sHIthead." tony RIvERa mOaned. And not Just Any ordinaRy run oF The mill EVery day Kind of MoaN. ThIs onE CaMe DeeP wIThiN HiM. AnD, tonY being a lArGiSh dudE, it wAS DEEp inDeeD.

"Why Me, LorD," Tony moaned. "WhY doEs it ALwaYs havE to be Me?"

"WhY nOt?" A deEp muffLed voIcE answered. Elvis cOuldN't resist. SO muCh For A TOny rePRieve.

TOny'S heAd snappEd arounD. "who SaID THaT?" Snarled Tony.

"Said whAt?" eLViS answereD. "I didn'T HeAr ANything."

"IT wAs tHe faSCIst beAnpoLE," MR. FleshmoUnd spiT OuT. "HE's fuckiNg With yoU." THen His Own taKE on a Snarl. "ANd you desErve iT, lard Butt."

"Lard BuTT! Tony bellowed. "yOu ARE cALlinG me lard Butt?" TonY shoOK Mr. FLeshMOuNd sO VigorOusly ThAT hIS shoelaces came untieD.

"EXcuse mE," Mr. FlEshmound said. "HOw impolite OF ME. That's MiSter lArD butt."

"Hey. Wait a miNute!" TOny suddenlY Said. "You sPeak pErfect EnGlish. CompLETe with coLloQuiAl iNsuLTS. JUst like us. I thoUGHt yoU wEre a MexIcaN." Mr. FlesHmoUnd ThoUghT hE saw his chAnce. He trIeD aNoThEr fLop on THe floor. NO lUck. toNy, tHough NOw groaNing wIth bEaDs OF swEat poppINg UP On hiS fOrEheaD, stIlL held Him iN A fiRm Tony gRip.

"I never SaiD i was A MExIcan," Mr. FLeshmound replIeD. "You assumeD I Was
itz through Mr. Fleshmound 's volumin ous c orp us.  T he s hock  was accompani e d by  a sizzler of a though t tha tf lewo ff  histonguel ik e a b ol tout  o f  a  Medi eva l cross bow.

"You  ar ecalling me a tu rkey, yougia nt donut?" F les hmound 's  fa c e too k o n the  color of a s quashed t om a to. "S c urrilou s th ugs! " Fleshmound spit ou t . "Libel! Slan der! P er v er t e rsofthe Americ an  Way! Jackboo t ed s t orm troopers! Fas chisti!"

" F asc histi? "Elv i s blur ted o ut .  "Y ou're calli ng u s Faschis ti?"
" Damn st r aight,beanpo le, " F lesh m ou nd  sn ap p edb ac k." It' s Italia nfo r shi thea d . " Tony  Ri vera  moan ed. And not j ust  any ord inary  runof t he  mill  every  dayki nd of moan. Thi s on e came de epwi thi nhim.A nd, To nybei ng a la rgish d u de,  i t w as  deep indeed.

"Wh ym e ,Lord," T ony mo a ne d. "Why doe sitalwa y s  have  tob eme?"

"W hy not ? "Adeep mu ff led vo ic e a nsw ered. Elvi s coul dn't res ist.S o much for a T o ny reprieve.To n y 's head  sn apped aroun d. " W ho s aidt ha t?" Snarl ed To ny . 
" Said what?" Elvis a ns wered.  "I d idn't hear an ything."
" I t  was the  fas c is t  beanpole," Mr . Fle shmound sp i t out. " He'sfuckingwith you. " Then his  ow n t ake  on a  s narl. "And yo u dese rv e it, L ard  Butt." 

" Lar d B utt !Tony bell owed. "Y ou  a re  c all ing m e  Lard Bu tt ?"To nyshook Mr. Fl eshmo undso  v i gor ously t h at h is s ho el aces  ca me  unti ed."Ex cuse me ," Mr. Fl esh m ound  s ai d. "How  impolite ofme . That's M is ter  LardB u tt."

"H ey. Wait a minute!" Ton y  sudden lysaid.  "Yo u speak p erf ect En gli s h. Com pletewithco llo q u ial i n s ul ts.  J ust like u s .  Ithoug ht  you  were a  Mexican." Mr. Fle s hmo und thought h e s aw h i s  c han c e. Hetr i eda n other flop on t he floor.No lu ck. Tony,t hou gh  now gr oaningwithb eads of  sweat po pping upon  his f ore head, stil l held h im in a f i rm To n ygrip. 

" I neve rsai d I w as a M e xic an,"Mr. Fl es hmound  repl ie d. "Youassumed I was
itz through_Mr. Fleshmound's_voluminous corpus. The shock_was accompanied_by_a sizzler_of_a thought that_flew off his_tongue like a bolt_out of a_Medieval_crossbow.

"You are calling me a turkey, you giant donut?" Fleshmound's face took on the_color_of a_squashed_tomato._"Scurrilous thugs!" Fleshmound spit out._"Libel! Slander! Perverters of the_American Way!_Jackbooted storm troopers! Faschisti!"

"Faschisti?" Elvis blurted out. "You're_calling_us Faschisti?"

"Damn straight,_beanpole," Fleshmound snapped back. "It's Italian for shithead." Tony_Rivera moaned. And not just any_ordinary run of_the_mill_every day kind of_moan. This one came deep within_him. And, Tony being a largish_dude, it was deep indeed.

"Why me, Lord,"_Tony moaned. "Why does it always_have to be me?"

"Why not?"_A deep_muffled voice answered. Elvis couldn't_resist. So much_for a_Tony reprieve.

Tony's head_snapped around. "Who said that?" Snarled_Tony.

"Said what?" Elvis_answered. "I didn't hear anything."

"It was_the_fascist beanpole," Mr._Fleshmound_spit_out. "He's_fucking with you."_Then_his own_take_on a snarl. "And you deserve_it,_Lard Butt."

"Lard Butt! Tony bellowed. "You are_calling me Lard Butt?"_Tony_shook Mr. Fleshmound so_vigorously that his shoelaces came_untied.

"Excuse me," Mr. Fleshmound said. "How_impolite of_me. That's_Mister Lard Butt."

"Hey. Wait a minute!" Tony suddenly said. "You speak_perfect English. Complete with colloquial insults._Just like us. I_thought you_were_a Mexican." Mr._Fleshmound_thought he_saw his chance. He tried another flop_on the_floor. No luck. Tony, though now_groaning with beads of_sweat_popping up on his forehead, still_held him in a firm Tony_grip.

"I never said I was_a_Mexican,"_Mr. Fleshmound replied. "You assumed_I was