Mr. Mayonnaise lived in a refrigerator with all his besties: Dr. Pickles, Randy Ketchup, Mike Bread, and The Milk. They hard huge hard-ons for partying and when the lights went out, they would bust out the disco ball and turn up the Brian Setzer Orchestra like they had something to prove. Mr. Mayonnaise was known as the party animal of all party animals. If he were in the Lion King he’d be Mufasa at the beginning, Scar in the middle, and Simba at the end; always on top of Pride Rock looking down.
One day, the fridge door opened and a big white hand came and grabbed Mr. Mayonnaise and Mike Bread, along with those hotties Ms. Ham and Rhonda Cheddar from the housing project in the crisper. Mr. Mayonnaise was like, “Yes! This is my chance to score!” He and Mike Brad were winking at each other like crazy as they were set down on the counter facing the babes.
Mr. Mayonnaise’s elation soon faded to terror as he saw the hand snag Mike Bread by his hair, reach inside his head and pull out two evenly cut chunks of his brain. Mike Bread, shocked into silence, stared into Mr. Mayonnaise’s eyes, while they cried quiet tears. “Oh my god,” thought Mr. Mayonnaise, “this is happening. I’m watching this happen.” The hot chicks were soon to be dealt a similar face, the hand peeling off parts of Ms. Ham, and slapping it on the blob of Mr. Bread’s mind. Rhonda Cheddar gasped in horror as a knife sliced off the front of her face and piled it on the monstrosity of parts. The bodies of his friend, and the chicks he wanted to get with, sat on the counter across from him, lifeless after being savaged by the horrible pale hand.
Mr. Mayonnaise soon felt himself become lifted into the air, and was turned upside down to stare at the mangled corpses. It was disgusting. “WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME THIS!? JUST KILL ME PLEASE!!” he wanted to shout, but before he had the chance, his skull was popped open, and the knife that de-faced Rhonda Cheddar (literally (GET IT!!!!!)) dipped into his head, and scooped out his insides to spread on the flesh pile. Mr. Mayonnaise would never party again, and soon, the remains of he and his friends would be replaced in the refrigerator to horrify those who were not chosen for death today as a reminder of their inevitable fate.
Andy Junk is much older than his picture would lead you to believe.