Predator Press
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I want to go downstairs and get another beer, but I'm utterly wasted on Percocet.
-And my test Slinky just burst into flames.

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 Soon thereafter, her arrest at a Star Trek convention for the assault of George Lucas made the papers worldwide.  She would subsequently tell police, “I kept punching [Lucas] until my knuckles could feel the inside of the back of his head.”  Uhura nonetheless denied any motivation involving the hot Star Trek v Star Wars rivalry.  “I just wanted [Lucas] to stop making shitty movies.  Somebody should have done that in 1983.”
   Now experimenting with drugs, Uhura's behavior only became increasingly erratic.  According to Wikipedia, “Star Trek III: The Search for Spock sees Uhura take an assignment in the transporter room as part of a plot to steal the Enterprise. After locking a colleague in a closet, Uhura uses the transporter station to beam Kirk, Leonard McCoy and Hikaru Sulu to the Enterprise so they can use it to rescue Spock from the Genesis Planet.”
       Uhura’s prosecutors found this defense preposterous, however.  “She locked a guy in a closet?“ said District Attorney Jorge Sackwood.  “Okay.  Forget that the future doesn’t even have bathrooms … but there is a closet in the Transporter Room?  Why?  Is it full of red shirts?  Or is it simply there for Sulu to come out of?” 
After an embarrassing appearance on History Channel’s Pawn Stars in an attempt to sell her tricorder and phaser, Ohura finally caught a romantic break and started dating Corey "Big Hoss" Harrison.  And because she never did a film with Nicolas Cage or Rob Schneider, this was the same year she was awarded two Predator Press Oscars, six Predator Press Emmys, and three Predator Press Nobel Peace Prizes. 
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But because I kinda look healthy (I cut my wrist cast off yesterday too), I’m confusing people: a random spasm might find me inexplicably offering counter-crossing pedestrians the look a cow gives you as you pull up to a fine steak restaurant.  Cops, misinterpreting my tender pain-addled gait, circle constantly suspecting I am drunk ... or maybe tryin to protect me from a mullet-sporting vintage Camaro driver with a glove box full of Viagra, roofies, and rolls and rolls of duct tape.
Either way I'm compelled to admit I am completely toxic with pain medications.  Prior to the back surgery, I shrewdly purchased a handful of used PS2 and Xbox games for my  convalescing amusement.  Currently I have no idea where they are.
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