Darn Clowns

You have been kidnapped by circus anarchists, and you have 2 choices for your release:

You are given $5,000 in hundred-dollar bills. You get to keep $300, but you must burn the other $4700 — one hundred dollar bill at a time — in front of a group of hungry, pleading, photogenic orphans wearing discarded Styx concert shirts from the Mr. Roboto tour. Also: it is on the condition that your $300 cannot be used in any way to help the poor, poor children;
the $5,000 will be donated to the orphans, but only on the condition that you stay in the ring for one 3-minute round with a professional boxer who does NOT speak English. Also: the $5,000 will be forfeited if you are knocked to the floor for over 10 seconds, or for more than 3 times.

The clowns give you 30 seconds to decide…

Post your answers below, BUT you must explain your decision…

No Ketchup on THIS Island…

Which would make it easier to resort to cannibalism (desert island, Swiss Army knife, Miracle Whip, etc etc):

• people that — due to an obscure genetic defect (Ballpark Plump Syndrome, say) — look exactly like very large hot dogs, except they don’t taste remotely like hot dogs (unless the hot-dogs in question were VERY ‘people-flavored’).

• people that look like people (of moderate attractiveness — not ugly enough to deserve it, for instance), but are filled with a rich creamy nougat. And they have little toffee pieces in their eyes (like those little floaters when you look away from a bright light, except – well – toffee).

–or–

• mix both of above into a gumbo.

This Little Piggie Went to the Laboratory…

You have been abducted by a mad scientist. You have also been duct-taped by the same mad scientist. You are undergoing an experiment against your will (unless you wish to proceed willingly, your call there).
Being a courteous mad scientist he gives you four options from which to choose:
• all of your toes will now be webbed; OR
• you will now have seven toes on each foot; OR
• your little toe on each foot will be extended with an extra toe knuckle and now be prehensile.
OR
(of course)
• you can have all of the above.
What will it be, my duct-taped friend…?

Koala’ The Wild…

You are trapped in the supply closet at the bottom of an abandoned Koala Mine* (*the mine was abandoned after it became clear that there had been a misunderstanding at the home office: while you can, indeed, mine for coal you really cannot mine successfully for koalas. Plus the dynamite involved makes any koalas that could be mined unsuitable for most koala usages).

Rescue crews are on their way, but they have to wait for spare parts to arrive from the Ukraine to repair their Ukranian Rescue Shovels. They estimate that they will reach you in eleven business days (the rescue crew gets Saturdays and Sundays off, and the Ukraine is closed on Tuesdays). However, you have already been there four days and as such all the Miracle Whip is gone.

Now there are only three sources of possible sustenance left in the closet:

• a jumbo-sized box of garlic croutons, of which the croutons therein are soggy. You do not now exactly how they came to be soggy;

• a plastic jug, 2/3rds full of a somewhat-viscous orange fluid; masking-tape across the side of the jug (written on with Sharpie) seems to indicate that the contents are (or were) ‘Ernie’s Kidneey Helpr’;

• two cases of MC Hammer MangoFunk Energy Drink, of which the expiration date reads March of 1994.

You are verrrrrrry hungry. What to do, what to do….

Rolling Stones Gather No Frequent Flyer Miles

You are on a 14 hour plane flight from Seattle to Portland (there a few plane switches in this route, but the tickets cost $11.43 less than one-way and man you are racking up the frequent-flier miles). The plane is a full house, with all passengers being from a monastery and deep within their Vow of Silence. However, you are stuck directly behind the only speaking passenger, who believes the monk next to him is actually listening, but is ‘slow’. You cannot change seats. Nor hide in the lavatory.

Would you rather be stuck behind:

1. Mick Jagger, attempting to explain what he knows about potato farming in Ireland from what he heard from a roadie who once worked for U2 and they’re Irish, you know, and Mick is belaboring a tea metaphor that he finds quite clever, and oh yes Prince Charles had a chuckle over it, too, as they played polo back in 1987 after the famine relief conference in Switzerland, tsk tsk a pity that famine business. Mr. Jagger is speaking verrry slowly, ar-tic-u-lating every syllable for em-pha-sis to help the poor slow gentleman understand this potato business that is not unlike tea but not the kind of tea you find at a common grocery, that is another issue entirely, the transgression that is grocery tea;
2. Keith Richards, who is simply trying to count to ten, over and over, but sometimes he only makes it to six, sometimes eight, and when he does make it to ten he realizes he skipped three and nine so he starts over yet again. li>
   

3. The roadie from Ireland himself, who tells the story of how he almost dropped a spotlight on Bono’s hat and boy that would’ve been trouble, before going on in detail about Mick Jagger’s weird obsession with potato farming and when is that drink cart coming and can you get one for him, you know, on the sly, cause they’ll only let him have two at a time, but if you get two yourself you can have one but now the roadie can have three, which reminds him about almost dropping a spotlight on Bono’s hat in Madrid. No, Portugal. Wait: Cleveland. No….

Choo Choo or Chewy?

It is your first day on the job for “Bald Tire Bob’s Delivery Service”: the previous driver was fired the previous day for mistakenly delivering twenty pallets of “Sherman’s Shivs & Shanks” to the local state prison (they were supposed to go next door to the “Hello Kitty School for Blind Children Who Run Slowly”).
Today’s delivery is a truckload of white bread and Miracle Whip for the prison. The prisoners have been without Miracle Whip & Wonder sandwiches for three days and there are now great fears of an impending riot (a side note: the prisoners get bologna every other February except for Leap Years, a complex algorithm, that).
Unfortunately, your delivery truck has stalled on the railroad tracks a mile short of the prison. Even more unfortunately the 12:13 east-bound train is coming fast with its many, many freight cars of Howler Monkeys intended for the petting zoo and/or the studio audience of the local game show “Bowling For Howler Monkeys”.
Which of the following choices do you make:
• Do you get out of the truck and call for help, even though there is no chance any help will arrive in time and this will no doubt kick off a horrible prison riot in their shared courtyard of the “Hello Kitty School for Blind Children Who Run Slowly” (there was already tension of who had rights over the Jungle Gym);
• Do you get out of the truck and attempt to push it out of harm’s way, knowing you only have a slight chance of success and — more likely — will be crushed in a horrifying crunch of metal and fur and Miracle Whip — with the added prospect that the Miracle Whip would impair rescue operations because the Emergency Services do not have their Condiment Waders (another “Bald Tire Bob’s Delivery Service” mishap);
• Do you grab your thermos out of the cab of the truck and sit by patiently, because – hey! — who doesn’t like Howler Monkey Sandwiches with Miracle Whip? Plus, the extra bold flavor of your coffee pairs exceptionally well with Howler Monkey (it is Free Trade, so, of course).
choo choo! Choo choo!