Email Cliff
CLIFF YABLONSKI HATES THESE PEOPLE:
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CONTENT:


Wow, I Met Cliff!
Cliff Hates You All
Cliff is Furious
Cliff Does NOT Have a Drinking Problem
A Cliff Christmas Story
More About Cliff
Game: "Yablonski Tournament"
Game: "Schmuck Hunt"

CONTACT:


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PAGE 172

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NEXT ON "NORTH APPLETON'S UNSOLVED MYSTERIES":

Robert "Human Corpse" Stack investigates photos of the nefarious "Aura of Horrible Failure" surrounding innocent citizens of North Appleton and turning them into mobile bludgeoning targets. The newest victims include Hives Hands and The Bloated Tomato, both pictured here. I think that's Ronald McDonald's wife on the left.

Remember kids, always chain and lock up YOUR goth when you're done using him! What you would use these pathetic slambags for, I don't know, but it'd have to be pretty good. Like using their hollowed out skull to store your salad forks. I always chain my Goth to a back of a bus because buses are pretty easy to spot, especially when they're dragging somebody with enough white facepaint to draw a solid white line down the goddamn street.

CAKE PATROL: IN COLOR!

Marvin Thomas takes a seat in the "Big Boys" chair. I punted his tiny little bloated ass out onto the highway, where he was hit by a pickup truck carrying hay and watermelons. I fucking hate watermelons. I get those stupid black seeds stuck in between my teeth and then I have to use a goddamn icepick to get them out, and I haven't been able to find my icepick since the day the Henderson kids came over sometime late October, dressed up like imbeciles and demanding candy. What the fuck, do I LOOK like some flaming jackass who stores Mars bars in his place year round? I threw the icepick at their dad, and when the idiot kids were dragging his body away, I lobbed cans of peaches at their heads while cursing and falling down. I woke up the next day behind my house and my goddamn pants were gone which really fucking stinks because those were my lucky pants I wore the day the helicopter fell on Eddie Feinstine.

"RRRAAAAOOOOORRRRWWW!!! Hey baby, calm down! Those other bitches didn't mean anything to me, baby! You're the only one in my life, I swear baby! ROOOOWWWWRWRRRR!"

Dammit Uglycat, what the hell are you talking about, you goddamn crippled filthy carpet?

"RRRAAAAOOOOORRRRWWW!!! That's it, old man! I'm gonna cram my claws down your 200 year old throat and manually remove your testicles from the inside! ROOOOWWWWRWRRRR!"

While the 38 nuclear power plants in South Appleton pretty much insure that these puss-oozing jackbats never build up a sperm count greater than their shoe size, they still find other ways to put more "pep" into their not-so-private parts. I don't remember who the fuck this nappyhaired candied cretin is, but I remember that kitchen in the background. It took me 10 seconds to tear out all their sink pipes and throw them into Miller's Creek out back. I can't remember what the hell they did to piss me off so much, but you can assume it was pretty annoying, whatever it was. I think their meaty kid took a picture of me pissing in their well.

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