Incredible Ingestables

Hunting a unicorn is much more difficult than you would ever imagine. I have been carrying and concealing a semi-automatic for many years and have yet to grill unicorn breast on my George Foreman. Most game-hunters prefer to prey on the common deer or elephant, but killing wild animals loses its luster. I prefer to hunt magical animals. Care to join me? If you aren't comfortable meeting a stranger with a semi-automatic, I understand. I learned that lesson the hard way; still, it is my belief that no one should miss the opportunity to slaughter a unicorn if they are given the opportunity. Here are a few tips to get started.

1. Find a Unicorn. When you do, let me know where and when. This may be the most difficult step because unicorns are very rare. Have you seen one?

2. Make Peace with the Unicorn. There is a long history of unicorn oppression. These creatures have been ridiculed and taunted for many years. Children's stories depict them as gay pony types that frolic about and fly people around. Indeed, the unicorn does look a bit gay but in the same way that leprechauns seem gay chasing rainbows and obsessing over riddles. Tell the unicorn it looks nice and incredibly heterosexual. More than anything, hunting unicorns is about love.

3. Trick the Unicorn. This may involve a lasso or bear trap. Plan ahead so that the unicorn doesn't suspect anything. They are very intuitive creatures that smell bullshit on your breath. A single false move could have you impaled on its colorful swirly magical horn.

4. Shoot it. Use golden bullets.

5. Spit on it. This is so degrading that any magical spells or curses will escape the humiliated unicorn's filthy stinking carcass.

6. Gut, Filet, and Feast. You are now ready to enjoy unicorn how God intended: marinated in its own juices and grilled. Goes well with minotaur hoof bruschetta. Don't forget to sell sugary unicorn horn to children with money.

Most Extreme

Extreme doors are opened and the epic battle between good and evil swings into colossal destructive action breaking jaws and cracking skulls. Power forces chain reactions and molten lightning rains up from the earth toward the sky. Demons and dragons stalk men like helpless mice writhing in traps, quivering in the cowardess of certain death fate explosion.

The funktastic magic mustard truck drove 20,000 kilometers swerving at sonic speeds and diving down chunky stone cliff side mountain roads with funky finesse. the highest winds in the world breathing down the back of Death Eater Peter the Supernova Navigator and making his microscopic hairs raise. "Saddlebag turbo teeter and tumble time sweeps this planet faster than a galactic solar blast blazing lightyears away and colliding with infinte possibility potential. Shit, we need gas!" says Pete. Rita Frida Pork Monkey Sunflower Punk counts the stars and pinpoints a BP 13 kilometers away. "We'll never make it Supernova Navigator!" The gas light fails and the future is fleeting. "When the nightfalls and doom welts my soul with a fishhook and copper wire i cry conquered kingdom moat tear drops and wail deep dinosaur extinction sob story sounds like Pickakwehh Pow Wew Wehhh!"