ELY, NV—After enjoying a generic chicken sandwich with waffle fries and a coke, professional parrot-sitter Antoine Herpsberger sat down to watch TV. Surfing channels, Herpsberger paused for a brief moment to watch a chef pour a delicate line of pear-infused chocolate coulis over a steaming array of raspberry truffle panettones. That brief pause was all the man needed to commit gluttony in his heart.
His decadent act of sinful gluttony was interrupted when a minuscule, white-robed Gwyneth Paltrow appeared over his right shoulder. “Antoine,” she sang while strumming her lute, “you know this is wrong. Change the channel. Think of acai sprouts.”
“Bro, it’s just a little bit of harmless, lip-smacking pleasure,” said Guy Fieri, appearing in a puff of smoke over Herpsberger’s left shoulder. “Ignore Gwyneth. She eats kale.” With the mention of the last word, Fieri’s voice grew deep and malevolent. He continued, flames bursting from his eyes and mouth, “BBQ Brawls is on neeeeext!”
Gwyneth Paltrow was extolling the virtues of citrus nebulization and cicada enemas when she was smothered with a throw pillow.
Later, Herpsberger moved on to the Home Shopping Network for some hot coveting action.
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