I wake up in my casino and drive to the casino. Ten supermodels sit in the passenger seat of my Ferrari. I speed so fast their hair blows off. Now they’re just models. When I arrive, I toss the parking attendant a lit cigar. He jams it into my ignition and the car explodes. The flames are red, my favorite color. Today is my lucky day.

Outside the casino, it’s 3 PM. Inside, it’s nine short hours from midnight. The dress code is black tie/naked, so I take off all my clothes and replace them with bow ties. Heads turn because people say I smell like cash. In truth, only my cologne does. I grab a firstful of poker chips. Eat them. Then I spit them out. I forget I’m allergic.

Time is money. But not for me. I spend hours picking the right table. Too many men, that’s a sausage fest. Too many ladies, what if I want some sausage? Forty days and forty nights later, I settle on a group with a perfect ratio, fat to old, skinny to wealthy. Bet my entire net worth, first hand. The dealer tells me the game is full. That’s cool. I can wait. Patience is my only vice.

Roulette. I’m colorblind. Slots. I’m deaf. Blackjack. You can’t say that anymore, but that’s never stopped me before. It’s all fun and games, except when everything’s on the line. Luckily, everything’s on the table. It tastes delicious. A good buffet is a beautiful thing.

Casino’s closing, since it’s almost time for them to open. I don’t want to go. Security grabs me, kisses me, pats me on the back. They throw me in jail—then I remember: here, there are no rules. We’re in Italy. Spain. Where is Monte Carlo? Don’t ask me. I know only one thing, and that’s the secret to my success: victory.

G.I. Bill was an action character created by the government after WWII to encourage modest usage of the G.I. Bill.

Welcome home, serviceman. You’ve saved the world from the brink of disaster—good on you! Now that you’re back, you probably aren’t sure what to do with yourself. On one hand, you could spend tens of thousands of dollars of the government’s money. On the other, you could be a good American, like G.I. Bill! Let’s see how he’s readjusting to life on this side of the Atlantic.

G.I. Bill doesn’t waste his hard-earned time at four-year colleges or universities. He spends it down at the public library, reading. Look at G.I. Bill, consuming the very same knowledge as an Ivy League student, without paying a dime! He knows that just because the government offers a program, it doesn’t mean that the federal budget wouldn’t still take a major hit if everyone took advantage of it. Doesn’t he look patriotic?

But beware! Evil Communist forces are trying to tempt G.I. Bill into taking advantage of his nation’s generosity. They want him to get a bachelor’s degree, maybe even a master’s! Thankfully, G.I. Bill already has a master’s—in loving America. He vanquishes the Commie scum with a series of powerful action moves, yet he does so quietly because he is still in a public library. G.I. Bill never disturbs the peace!

Everywhere G.I Bill goes, he is beloved by his fellow citizens, partially for his valor in war, but primarily for his sparing usage of government subsidies. Every Veterans Day, the town throws a parade in his honor. The owner of the local diner promises him free meals for life, but G.I. Bill insists on paying. He knows that it is important for the economy for small business consumer spending to remain high.

See all these new homes that G.I. Bill would only be able to afford with the help of a federal loan? G.I. Bill doesn’t live in any of them. Rather, he stays with his mother, because if he didn’t, he would essentially be saying that he didn’t love his mother! You love your mother, don’t you?

As the sun sets on another beautiful American day, G.I Bill sits down to a romantic dinner cooked by his wife, Rosie the Riveter, who has easily settled back into domestic life after three years in the factory. Gosh, she can’t keep her hands off him—he’s just so strong and frugal. In fact, every time G.I. Bill saves the government a dollar, his biceps grow a full four inches! He will surely have employable skills a decade from now.

Hi, and welcome to the first episode of Wizard Cooking Show. I am your host, Wizard Michael, but you can just call me chef. Today, we’ll be making lasagna.

But, before we begin, my producer is indicating to me that I should answer a few key questions. Yes, I am a real wizard. What does that mean? It means that I have magical powers that allow me to do things most humans could never even dream of, and also that I identify as a man. A man who loves to cook! Alright.

Now, whenever you’re cooking something Italian, you’ll likely need cheese and/or tomatoes. You can get these by conjuring them. I am pretty confident that this is the only way to obtain either of these ingredients. Additionally, you’ll want some flat pasta, which you can find at your local grocery store. Once you have everything ready, it is time to cast the “lasagna spell”. This is my fun little term for combining the ingredients by hand, and then baking the result.

After about thirty to forty-five minutes of cooking, your lasagna should be ready. I recommend spending the waiting time flying a broom, as this can be very, very fun. Your lasagna should look great, which is unfortunate because, if you’re anything like me, you will be unable to eat it. Lasagna is extremely deadly to wizards, and is, in fact, the only thing known to be able to kill us. Not even time can kill us.

I hope you enjoyed the show, and please be sure to tune back in next week, when we will be baking cookies!

Love Poem

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Sunflowers are yellow and brown

Haiku

This is not a haiku

This is not a haiku

This is not a haiku

Acrostic

Poop

Opoop

Epoop

Mpoop

Spoop

Spoop

Upoop

Cpoop

Kpoop