BY RANDY MCNAB!

I'LL WALK YOU TO YOUR LEXUS.

- YES, IT IS.
- IT'S VERY NICE. WHAT IS IT?

- OH, HE HAS DONE.
- WAS IT A GOOD SHOW? ANYONE PHONE IN?

I'LL GIVE YOU 200.
THAT'S A PONY AND A BAG OF HOOVES.

THAT'S JUST WRONG.
YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT THE OTHER WAY ROUND.

YOU DID. YOU DROVE UP TO DUNDEE IN BARE FEET.

PURR-OPPING UP THE BAR IN HIS FICTIONAL "NIGHTCLUB".

SO...BOUNCING BACK.

- THERE WE GO.
- YOU WANT FITTED SHEET?

AS WE SAY IN OUR FAMILY,
TOO MUCH MUSTARD GETS UP YOUR NOSE.

I THINK I'D BE MORE PREOCCUPIED
BY THE FACT I WAS ENCOUNTERING A TALKING SNAKE.

ALAN, I JUST CAN'T MOVE ON THE FEE.
YOU KNOW WE LOVE YOUR WORK.

AND SAY, "THAT IDIOT'S GOT A BABY "H".

THE TERRORIST IS DISORIENTED
FROM THE STUN GRENADES.

ACTUALLY, I AM SPEECHLESS.

RUNNING ALONG WITH MY BREASTS WITH TASSELS.
YOU CAN'T MAKE THEM GO THAT WAY.

YOU'RE MY PA AND YOU'RE INVITING ME
TO A RELIGIOUS WET T-SHIRT COMPETITION.