I have a fantasy that I'd like to share with you and all of your friends.
Basically it's me, a tub and about 20 gallons of canned Spaghettios. Wearing only cut off blue jeans and a bra made of cocount shells and chopped tree vines, I slowly open each small (8 oz.) can of pasta fun. Once the can is opened, I take a drag off of a Cohiba cigar. While I dump the processed pasta in the tub two Asian midgets walk in and shout "The Queen is dead!!" then they leave. This process repeats itself until all the cans are emptied.
With the tub full, I put out my cigar and hop in still clothed. Four skunks walk in and spray me for several minutes. I use snorkel gear to avoid full facial skunk juice. Once the rodents cease their assault I rise up from my almighty tomato shelter. I look these creatures dead in the eye and say "Chef Boyardee is my savior." The skunks bail.
The midgets return with RC brand soda and Uno cards. We party 'til dawn.

I had a very similar fantasy once, except it wasn't a fantasy, it as an LSD trip gone horribly, horribly wrong and instead of the midgets it was Marxist revolutionary leader Juan Valdez® and instead of Spaghettios® it was sulphuric acid. Otherwise it was exactly the same.

The coffee pickin' commie scares me silly. Wow, maybe I should start doing acid. Your delusion had much more symbolism then mine.

Interesting times.

That was B.M., before Monkey.