Pigs fly.

VICTIM #1 IN THE SIZZLER MASSACRE: Pete Strommunds. This guy was in a party with five other diseased shitheads who were talking really loud and eating all the shit in the buffet bar, so I stormed over and stuck a fork into his ear and pulled it out and his brains came out and I put them on the ground and kicked them through the window into traffic where a Malaysian man ran over them with his stolen bicycle made out of orphans' body parts.

VICTIM #2 IN THE SIZZLER MASSACRE: Ed Bernatovi. I think he worked at the same Henry Hank's Dessert Suppository factory as the guy above him. All I know is that he was at the same table so I grabbed him by the hair and was going to slam his head into the lettuce bin, but I lost grip of him because instead of grabbing hair I had just grabbed a handful of centipedes that were living on his revolting skull. I think he might've escaped from The Sizzler that day. At least most of him escaped, I still have a few souvenirs from his ribcage in my trophy case which I built myself out of wood I stole from the Home Depot because there's no way a war veteran like me should have to pay for wood when I can just go and chop down a tree from the Patterson's yard and get wood from there. Home Depot is a big fucking scam and if you pay for shit there, you're support communism and I didn't fight in four World Wars just so the commies could win, goddammit.

VICTIM #3 IN THE SIZZLER MASSACRE: Pat Jenkins. I kicked this quadrasexual goatsucker's bloated doughy carcass through the back door and shoved it into the back of one of those "Explosion Trucks," you know, the trucks that explode when I light the gas tank on fire. They have a lot of those around here.

VICTIM #4 IN THE SIZZLER MASSACRE: Allen Garrison. All I know about this 1980's reject is that he drives an IROC-Z which has a muffler so loud it shakes my entire house when he's within a 10 block radius of my house. He also has this bumper sticker that says "READY 2 ROCK" on the back, which I argue gave me legal permission to bludgeon him to death by stabbing him in the throat with a rock. Well okay, it was a knife, but knives are sharpened by rocks, right? So it's like the same thing. If I was on "Law & Order," I would be found innocent even though that Sam Watterson DA guy is one sharp cookie, especially for a guy who always looks hung over.

VICTIM #5 IN THE SIZZLER MASSACRE: Reggie "Southern Comfort" Hicks. I don't know what this genetic freak's problem is, particularly since Appleton City hasn't been located in the "south" for at least 30 years, but all he does it go on and on about how "the south will rise again!" What the flying fuckfarm does that even mean, I guess besides the fact that the sales of those shitty foam hats will rise by 500% or so? This was the original shithead who got me all worked up and pissed off at The Sizzler because he kept going back to the ice cream machine and getting more vanilla ice cream and let me tell you something, they never fill up that ice cream with enough vanilla to begin with, so there was no way I'd let some gutterslug slimeball eat all the vanilla ice cream before I had a chance to even finish my sixth baked potato. So I went over to his table to tried to persuade him to stop eating all the vanilla by breaking a plate over his back and then cramming the ceramic shards up his hairy ass. He tried to pull a gun on me but I was wearing my magnetic gloves and the gun flew into my hand and I used it to shoot the chandelier above him and it fell down, breaking the table, and then these white doves flew out of the air vents and I beat up all the other rednecks at his table and the other people in the restaurant cheered me on and threw me their jewelry because I was a hero just like I was in Nam and Korea and Nova Scotia goddammit. Fuck all of you.