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There once was a small asian man. He lived in a small cabin in the wonderful misty mountains of Japan, all by himself near a gentle brook. He ate peaches from the orchard. He called to the birds. He tended to his garden. the small asian man was very happy. Then one day a pack of wild chickens came to his home and knocked furiously at his door. WE ARE REBELLING AGAINST CHICKEN FRIED RICE CONSUMPTION IN THIS PART OF THE WORLD AND WE MUST HAVE YOUR SIGNATURE OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO COOK YOU UP WITH A SIDE OF LO MEIN AND SERVE YOU TO AMERICAN CAPITALISTS WITH TAP WATER!!!!!!! The small man, he was a small man, had never tasted the delicous, dish oh so favored by ye the American capitalist pigs in the East because HE'S A JAPANESE ASIAN MAN YOU IDIOT!! CHICKEN FRIED RICE IS A CHINESE DISH!!!!!!! DAMNIT YOU PEOPLE...so he signed greatefully. The chickens were stupid and couldn't read such beautiful handwriting of yon Japanese patrons and so they thought he was bluffing. Angry, they stormed the house and beat him until he was dead (or actually just deeply meditating...stupid ass chickens). Then they cooked him up into a large pot and served him with lo mein and large amounts of free tap water to American Capitalist pigs at local malls who loved to taste free samples from workers calling people out in fake asian accents. This was the worst thing that chickens could possibly do to yon asian bretheren. Quickly and without warning, following a lucrative deal with the local US Japonic Grill "International worker", a flock of flying, kicking, screaming ninja racoons busted through the door and with throwing stars in hand slaughtered the entire room including an annonymous migrant worker who wandered in from the street corner selling spam franks'n jelly pancakes. It twas a grizzly sight. Poultry strewn about, dismembered thighs and wings splattered on the ground; a scene closely resembling a KFC sponsored Woodstock, complete with a Rob Zombie style mosh pit. The racoons were almost done picking feathers from between their fluffy toes when the small man, now back alive from large containers, hovered in and without warning starting singing "Like a Virgin" while shooting up doses of fried cactus rum. The racoons simultaneously combusted and inside each of their bodies lay the fetus of a small angry german monkey carrying vases full of grass and Captain D's fried fish sticks.

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