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weird surreal pixel art characters, super jacked up tomato face johnson


    “So, tell me again Gary.” said Jimbo Jay Jacobson. Jimbo leaned forward in his seat and brought the fingers on each of his hands together to form a steeple in anticipation. “How was it that  you came to end world hunger?”
   Gary, who was seated on the other end of the restaurant dining table, smiled a toothless grin from ear to ear. Literally, toothless mind you. He had no teeth.
   “Weww, you shee Jimbo, It'sh aww becaush of my geneticsh, it sheemsh.” said Gary, trying his best to enunciate given his rather severe speech impediment. “No one knowsh why presh-eye-shwy, mind you, but that ish what they are shaying aww the shame. An anomowy, fatsh for shaw.”
   “Fascinating! I think I'll just tuck in then, if you don't mind” replied Jimbo.
   “Oh, not at aww,” Gary waved a hand, palm up, gesturing to Jimbo to begin his meal. Jimbo smiled, picked up a fork and hovered it over large porcelain bowl that sat on the dining table before him. He began curling a single noodle around the utensils prongs with a twisting motion, slotted it into his mouth, then closed his eyes, savoring the delightfully savory flavor for a moment. He swallowed, then exclaimed “Absolutely delicious!”
   “And vewy nutritioush, if I do shay sho myshewf.” added Gary.
   “Indeed,” came the reply, “please, continue.”
   “Ahh yesh! Weww, I was shix yearsh of age at the time...”
   “How old now?” interrupted Gary, finishing another mouthful.
   “Oh, ah, I'm forty eight now.”
   “My very firsht toof wash wooshe enough to be puwwed cwean from my gum, you shee. Sho I pinned it with thumb and finger, eager for the gowd coin my mother shaid wouwd be coming my way by necsht shun up."  said Gary with a wheezy chuckle.
  Jimbo pursed his lips, sucking a noodle into his mouth then smiled.
Gary winced a little, fidgetting in his chair and continued,  “Wouwdn't you know, when I puwwed the toof, the root shyshtem jusht kept on going.”
  “Unbelievable!” exclaimed Jimbo, who was slurping his noodles now, all spluttery and wet and dripping.
   “It wash a purplish pink shtrand of fiber and mushle shwiding out of the gum cavity with no end! It jusht kept on going and going! Sho much sho, a great big coiw of fweshy rope was fawming on the bathwoom fwaw!”
   “You don't say!”
   “Aww my teef did the shame thing too! And Weww...” Gary paused for dramatic effect, gesturing both arms outwardly, towards the surrounding dining hall “...hewe we ah!” he declared.
   Jimbo nodded agreeably. “And here we are Gary. Just fascinating.” He sucked some more noodles then, and sucked hard, shoveling as much as he possibly could from his bowl into his mouth. He just couldn't get enough. The bowl was now empty and the noodle, which Jimbo was still ferociously vacuuming through his mouth hole, became taught. The strand of tooth root now made a straightened line from Jimbo's mouth, all the way across the dining room table to the root canal where Gary's left incisor would normally have been.
   “Sho my fwiend, have you enjoyed the meaw?”
   Jimbo nodded with enthusiasm and communicated an "okay" gesture by making a circle with this thumb and index finger. He thought it best to just keep sucking and slurping that never-ending noodle root down, a flurry of spluttering moist noises accompany his every slurp.
   “And what about the wot of you?! Are you aww shashiated?” Gary cried out triumphantly. He stood and turned to the others in the dining hall.
   Including Jimbo, there were thirty six restaurant patrons, all with serviette wrapped around neck and all of them connected from mouth to mouth to Gary by way of root tendrils, as if they were hungry puppets eating the very string that supported them - and at the point where all the strings converged was Gary, the puppet master.
   For a long time, there Gary stood, and the diners dined happily at their tables, all of them consuming meters upon meters of nutritious root noodle provided by Gary, fresh as fruit plucked straight from a tree, the thirty six strands slipping and sliding out of gum, the strands glistening with saliva, reflecting the warm orange glow of the restaurants lighting as if the roots were cables of fairy lights stretching through the empty spaces between them all. Nothing could be heard but the wet slurps, licking of lips and contented hums of each diner.
   It was nearing that time when Gary would need to stop the flow of root noodle and cut short everyone's feast. They would be disappointed. They always were, having to stop eating what was now the most popular food in the world. But Gary would need to move to the next restaurant and treat the next group of thirty six lucky individuals to a succulent free meal. Then he would rinse and repeat, offering up his root noodle to everyone on the planet in time, and then doing it all again. Some would think Gary may be tired of the same thing, day in day out, but no! Gary was pleased! The chorus of sloppy wet slurping noises was all he needed. This was the sound of world progress! No one need go hungry again!

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