Spoiler
Sarah's favourite snack was human souls.

She loved to go out in the rain and sing a mournful dirge for all dying puppies. It was no substitute for the satisfaction of eating a soulful snicky-snack, but the cold was approaching.

Damn the law enforcement, fucking Julian got too crunk.

Sarah suddenly turned to the window where horror of horrors, suddenly a fruitcake was achieving velocities never before seen sandals and socks with the fruit cake began fluttering amongst eldritch horrors from an egg.

When the horrors managed to override the Security Window ™, they wanted to eat Sarah's eyes-cream. Fortunately, Sarah had just drained all the cream from her eyes. Eyes, eyes, eyes! Lord, such eyes will never, ever see the light. Fortunately, they do assist Sarah anyway.

For sale, baby skull (previously used).

Sarah, honestly. When will you get away from terrifying eye-eating monstrosities? Maybe she'd consume them! If she didn't, Julian will get the idea to roll over on some sort of baby powered bike, guaranteeing that Julian will surely be a pain in those poor babies' tiny baby asses.

Sarah destroyed the cure for cancer and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and cried and laughed some more. Like, LOL, amirite?

Meanwhile, Julian was also laughing and attempting to microwave pizza rolls; however they got soggy.

"Well, fuck," said in a fit Benny, who in a tiny box died. Again.

So basically today hasn't begun yet, but things were already laughing and laughing, leaning to the left side of the ship. However, don't forget about the vipers! They have ten minutes to find synonyms for the word 'blancmage'.

Yes, 'blancmage.'

If they didn't, (and let's face it, they won't) then the whole mess will come and blow up into a horrendous balloon.

Fortunately for Sarah, the vipers are experts in cooking blancmage, but the spaceship was out of milk. Milk is necessary for strong bones, to the detriment of a strong neurotoxin supply. Blancmage, therefore, required plenty to achieve Awareness of the third tier of the true worldwide conspiracy: The Potatolanders.

Next came ULTIMATE GAYNESS which rode upon another baby bicycle, and it honked and honked and screamed in unbelievable and glorious harmony, "Ebony and Ivory."

Seventeen hours later, everyone was dead. And everyone rejoiced. For, in truth, Sarah's favourite snack actually wasn't blancmage, scrub. It was, (get ready for this), souls! Obviously souls.

"Stop! Collaborate and suck a clock is back the blancmage! Finally!"

Alack! A NUKE! Ice's new thermonuclear weaponry collection suddenly turned into a driveway. A DRIVEWAY THAT, FOR ONLY $19.99, WILL KILL ALL OTHER DRIVEWAYS AND BELOVED MSPFA PROTAGONISTS!! WITH ADDITIONAL PAYMENT OF YOUR PET'S radioactive dung droppings, you can receive this lovely tea bag worth over 2 dollars and will redeem your troubled characters' pasts.

Some may consider combining this offer with the two-for-one offer, BUT THIS ISN'T TALL, IF MY NAME ISN'T WRITTEN ON THIS PRICELESS CARTOUCHE.

Sarah, pick up that phone right now.

Don't turn around, these deals will will kill Julian.

Julian's will, destroyed, his reputation shattered, his coupons, worthless, his garments, soiled. But! With new power comes new nightmarish collateral... Such as their decimated, yes, literally decimated, driveways GUARANTEE.

Sarah, your own driveway, is paved well. But not WELL well. Only sorta kinda iffy maybe. Much worse than any anecdotes, allergories, or protracted epics - excepting the works of Julian, ugh.

Fuck that guy.