My bailiff, upon seeing the success of my chemical diet so far, made a photocopy of the instructions and menu. I told him that if he wants to do the diet, I’d give him the seven saltine crackers it calls for so he doesn’t have to go out and buy a gargantuan carton like I did if he doesn’t normally eat saltines. He looked at the menu and said, “I don’t think I can do this, man. There’s not enough eats on it for me.” I looked at him quizzically, wondering why he made the photocopy. He answered my unspoken question. “I’m gonna give this to Lisa.” His girlfriend.

Can you guys just SMELL the bloodspill already?

I didn’t say anything to him.