April 2001

Straight Outta Candyland

Editor's Note: Godzilla and Grandpa have recently, because of the unemployment of one and massive sugar binges of both, have recently lost their minds. Returning the the streets that Gozilla claims to be from, he has taken to calling himself "Jelly Bean", while Grandpa now responds to "Sugar Pill". They flash made up gang signs and would seem to be seconds away from a sugar overdose, or as doctors call it- diabetic shock. If you should encounter these two idiots, it's probably best that you avoid them completely.

Jelly Bean:
What's up, Sugar Pill?!

Sugar Pill:
Just fakin' it, man. For shizzle.

Jelly Bean:
What the hell are you talking about, horse sucker?

Sugar Pill: You got the wrong man. Gov. Smooth is all about givin' head to race horses.

Jelly Bean:
Yeah, everyone knows that. Didn't you see the picher in the Sun? HE was wearing a pink tutu, too. Yo, you got some sprinkles?

Sugar Pill:
Bitch, you know I do. I'm the Suga' Pi-oll! Straight outta Candyland! Crazy motherfucker named Suga' Pill!… Gimme some sugar, bitch.

Jelly Bean:
I ain't yo' wife, son. But I am on a major sugar bender 'bout now. DUDE! Did I tell you my new million dollar idea? It's better than Car Hair (tm). Get this- Robot Hoedowns. If we can get some robots doin' some square dancing and a jig, we can sell that to TV for millions. The most importing thing, though, is to come up with the right music. I'm thinking it would have an almost real sounding syth-fiddle and a really furious (as in angry) break beat rippin' shit up. And maybe a jug. Check it, fool!

Sugar Pill:
You can't be for serious. That'll destroy the robots if you don't get some spoons in the rhythm section. That and some pig noises rippin' in the background.

Jelly Bean:
Whatever makes and your herpes happy, sick-o.

Sugar Pill:
Leave my herpes out of this. I was saving them for my brother's birthday.

Jelly Bean:
You mean your wife don't have 'em yet?

Sugar Pill:
She can't catch them. They're the kind that guys give to each other. I found them in a can of Pringles a few years ago. I'da given them to you, but you sleep with your mouth closed.

Jelly Bean:
Damn right! I read your diary, you pussy. Just like I read Bobby Smooth's diary to find out he preferred the wangs of racing horses. He's a freak.

Sugar Pill:
I can't believe he is one of them AND he got elected. It's like 51% of the people just don't care about dudes suckin' off horses.

Jelly Bean:
Most people secretly dream of giving hummers to horses. It's part of being human.

Sugar Pill:
Maybe so, but let's get back to this Robot Hoedown. Who would DJ that scene? Are there hillbillies from Alabama who know how to spin country dance tunes? I thought all those people did was jam pickles up their butts. You know, as part of their public education.

Jelly Bean:
You must be thinking about the Sweet Pickles bus. That thing is full of inbred retards from Alabama and Virginia. The bus driver likes those states because he can pick up almost anyone - especially in Virginia. Then he gives them his sweet pickle. Whatever, those jerks are fuckers.

Sugar Pill:
What kind of fuckers?

Jelly Bean:
The kind that fuck YOUR mom and won't help pay for the groceries.

Sugar Pill:
Wait, you're not from Virginia.

Jelly Bean:
Fo' shizzle! But not EVERY jerk that sexes your mom up and doesn't pay for groceries is from Virginia.

Sugar Pill:
SNAP! Good point. So anyhow, you wanna do some lines of Pixie Sticks or what?

Jelly Bean:
Hells yes. Then let's go hang out on the corner drinkin' grape soda.

Sugar Pill:
Drop it on, Jelly Bean!