"A Month In The Life Of Jock McStrap™"

Once upon a time, Mr. Psychopathic Jock McStrap™ had a psychopathic fit. The next day he awoke in a padded cell, wearing a straightjacket. After discovering that he had a severe mental disorder, he stood on his head and sang "I'm A Little Teapot, Short & Stout" at the top of his voice. During this soulful rendition the blood rushed to his head and he suffered a massive brain haemorrhage. After being in a coma for three weeks he woke up and promptly ate the life support machine. This having been done, he got out the cleverly-concealed chainsaw that he had had hidden in his bra. After refilling it with the doctor's semen he had a manic chainsaw fit. On the way home from the institution, he saw a young child in a pram, and was about to chop it in half when he took pity on the child and hid it under a lawn mower. Suddenly, he decided to mow the lawn, but much to his annoyance the mower was jammed. He inspected the blades, and removed the child's lower jaw. Whilst doing this, he accidentally chopped his hand off. He then pottered off to the butcher's and had a meat cleaver strapped to the bloody stump. He tested it out on the butcher. After a hearty meal of the butcher's lungs, heart and liver boiled in his own stomach, he fell into a deep, deep sleep. In the morning, he realised that while he was sleeping he had rolled onto the cleaver and spilt his guts all over the floor. Muttering "Tut, tut, tut! This will never do!" he cleaned up the mess and went to look for the King of the Potato People™.

At about midnight, he gave up looking, tired, disappointed and very, very angry. He threw a major tantrum and in doing so he suddenly nutted a wall. Doing this rendered him unconscious. He woke up in the back of a dustcart. Fortunately he had survived the choppy bits. He wasn't happy about this, so got the dynamite that was also in his bra out, and tried to blow his way out. He was terribly disappointed as he couldn't blow hard enough, so lit the dynamite instead. Litter was scattered everywhere, and something caught his eye. It was his other hand. He hadn't been so lucky with the choppy bits after all. He replaced the eye that had just fallen out with one of his three testicles, and over-excitedly ran to the friendly neighbourhood used weapons dealer, John Plipoff. He gave Jock™ a Swiss-Army Battery-Powered Pocket Chainsaw With Five Different Weapons Including A Four-Foot Samurai Sword And A Grenade Launcher™. He attached nine-inch retractable claws to his forearm. Drooling, he walked home with his new toys.

When he got home, he sat down and watched the TV, and discovered that there was going to be a massive street party, which meant lots of people to massacre. This party was in Fiji, which was a problem as Jock™ was in Upper Ramsbottom, England™. Donning his three piece bikini, he rushed to the beach and swam all the way to Fiji. The party was just ending (Jock™ was a rather fast swimmer, and having no hands didn't slow him down) so using his nine-inch retractable claws he shredded everybody into at least 39454 pieces each. After this he found himself in yet another padded cell in yet another straightjacket. After escaping, he fled into a forest, and ate himself into a tree, which was unfortunately a sapling, so people noticed an unusually large bulge in the tree. Poor Jock™ hated trees, so when the people were out of sight he set fire to the forest, and watched it burn. All of a sudden a large tree fell towards him, screaming in agony as it was on fire, causing Jock™ to have a cardiac arrest. Traumatised, the people from the asylum dragged his unconscious body away.

Jock™ awoke in a hospital to find that the kind doctors were also mentally unstable, and had replaced his leg with a circular saw. He was overjoyed, and gave each of his new friends nude pictures of a sexy cupboard. All three of them got really high on nitro-glycerine, and flew to China, where his friends became devoted members of the National Confederation of Vietnamese Pot-Bellied Pigs (NCVPBP). Glad that he had made them all happy, he swam back home to Upper Ramsbottom, where he set up home in a McDonald's, where he lived out the rest of his life in peace.

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