Michael Jackson is buried today – and remembered in a big hoopla in Los Angeles.
Steve: Dead? We can only hope.
Pilgrim, the boy’s not up here.
Duke: Michael is in the portion of heaven reserved for trans-species individuals.
Not down here, either.
Hitler: Are you absoutely sure? Look around again. Perhaps he’s dyed his skin red this time. Look for someone with no nose, who giggles like a fool, and hangs around Satan’s Day Care Center all the time.
I have the ear of Lucifer himself, as you might imagine. He assures me no tie-dyed former African American filled with needle marks and giggles around. Joe Stalin, a small man himself, had great plans for Michael’s arrival.
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