The Creator - By. Baphomet - Miscellaneous - http://maxpages.com/thelemicmagick/Spam

I (Bilybo Johnson) worked as a clown, and just got fired for putting citric acid in my Squirting flower. Now I'm out of work, about to lose my house and I have no family except for a 3 headed monkey I got a few years back, and was forced to sell him to. The next day I went home and had an eviction notice on my door, I was getting kicked out for throwing banana peels in the garbage disposal. Now I was also homeless with very little money. Even after all this I still had a choice of a home, it was a choice between a cardboard box, and the dumpster behind the local 7-11™. I thought about it and took the dumpster, mostly because it gets emptied weekly, and most of the time you can get half-decent food. Later the next day I applied for a job at the store. "You would be perfect for the job!" The manager said. "The only problem is you stink like a old crusty can of Spam™!" "Please don't mention Spam™. I hate that stuff worse than Hanson!" The manager was a little confused, (Being a Hanson fan himself) but he agreed anyway. Unfortunately I was only getting $5 an hour, so I was forced to eat only Spam™! I really hated it! My breath started smelling like an old, mean, goat, with a bad case of disintery. Lawrence Tero (my boss) more commonly known as Mr.T promoted me! At this time I was getting on my sweaty, stinking feet, and almost had enough money for one on those high quality dumpsters! I lived like this for a while, but unfortunately I was still eating Spam for every meal! With each passing day I hated it more and more. On a Sunday night the T and me (as he likes me to call him) were both working, when a man in a mask, came into our little quickie-mart and waved a gun around. Suddenly, Mr.T shouted, "I pity the fool who tries to rob me!" That's when I said "Shouldn't we call the..." Mr.T cut me short and said "Shut up you crazy fool! I know what I'm doing!" We could both tell the gunman was getting annoyed. He fired at me, hit me in the shoulder, and grabbed the nearest thing to him, a can of Spam (surprise, surprise) and threw it at Mr.T, then the gunman ran away. Mr.T called the police, and told them what happened. I was taken to the hospital, and Dr. Kavorkian said I wouldn't be able to move my arm again! The drinks there were great! All they had was Tang™! But the downside was that all they had to eat was Spam™! The doctor said I could leave the next day though. I went to Mr.T the next day and told him he couldn't work there anymore. The T decided to quit for hopes of a acting job in a new show called "The A-Team." As the T left, I heard him say "I pity the fool who works at a 7-11!" Well, once again I'm homeless, jobless, and probably not ever going to stop eating this mutated pork product. Two weeks later "My lucky day, I found $0.30 on the ground." With my one good arm I picked the money up. I went to the store and bought a newspaper, and the first thing I saw was Mr.T on the first page! "Wow!" I said aloud. "He got the job!" As I walked down the street not paying attention a bright red convertible hit me in the street. A man jumped out of the drivers seat, to make sure I was ok. "What's your name son?"
"Billybo Johnson"
"Wait!"
"Ummm...I really don't have a choice you hit me with your car remember?"
"This can't be. It just can't"
"Did someone forget to take their Prozac this morning?"
"You don't understand! the old man mumbled. "You see my name in Schmitty Johnson, I have been looking for you for years! You're my lost son!"
Me being the stupid guy that I am could only say one thing. "How did you get rich? Because you must be to own that car."
"That doesn't matter now!"
Two years later "I love being rich!" I said. I would kill myself if I had to eat any more of that bums meat! So anyway, how did you get rich in the first place?" "Well actually, I'm the Creator of Spam!"
He said proudly.

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Page Updated Sat Jan 30, 1999 7:24pm EST