“I’m old enough now,” cried Isobel one fateful day, “and Albert Glover over in Reedstown, he’s sayin’ he wants my hand in marriage.”

“Fine, I reckon,” muttered Pa, taking another swig out of his hooch jug. “Y’ain’t knocked up or nothin’, are yeh?”

“Supposin’ I was? But I ain’t.”

“Ain’t nothin’ new. Yer maw had you at 12, and lookin’ at you, I’d say you’re right for the marryin’.”

Life in the Transparent Sphere had gotten tiresome, thought Gregory. As he reclined upon his chaise lounge, he thought about happier times in the Outside World, particularly his rendezvous days with the lovely Ursula, a buxom Teuton with a knack for making the perfect wienerschnitzel. But these days, Ursula was cooking for the dapper, moustachioed Roscoe, and he was doomed to a life berift of germs and delicious salted pork.

“And as you can see, Mr. Rochester, I finished the report on time, complete, and without a single typo. I think this demonstrates I’m a valuable asset to the workplace.”

“I suppose you are, my dear, but I was thinking about two very DIFFERENT kinds of ‘assets’ you have when I hired you.”

Not satisfied with toilet papering the entire neighborhood’s trees that Halloween, Sara took Mischief Night forward that year and stole everyone’s Christmas decorations. She was daring to do so in broad daylight, but “that’s part of the fun,” she said flippantly, puffing on another Kool.

“I know one thing’s for sure…tonight’s our wedding night, and first thing I’m gonna do when we get to the inn…”

“Ohhh, Harold! Tee hee!”

“…I’m gonna find out what the secret is to Maude’s massive shoulders.”

Thanksgiving became a feast of horrors when the Wiltons became the victims of a terrifying spell, in which they became encased in gourds and became the Thanksgiving centerpiece.

Wanda agreed that this particular demonstration helped her immensely, but not necessarily in the weapons department.

(Thanks for Julie for finding this gem!)

As we all expected, Caitlin and Scott woke up with crazyass dark circles under their eyes, a bad case of the shakes, and drew total blanks on what the fuck they did (threw flaming sofas off the Pugh Street parking garage) but WOW, what a party, and THANKS TED for the case of FOUR LOKO, because IT WAS WAAAAAY WORTH IT, dawg.

We always wondered how Great Uncle “Stumpy” got his name, and why he was terrified of crocodile shoes.