As I mentioned yesterday, my girlfriend Sissy has been communicating with some filthy carpet-kisser named Faruhk who's talked her into becoming a "valiant warrior princess for the cause of righteousness" with The Islamic State (ISIS). He's promising her a handsome warrior husband, furnished apartment, pet goats, and a low-mileage Toyota pickup with a mounted machine gun - all absolutely free - if she converts to Islam and gets herself to Syria. I laid awake all night putting together a plan to save my girlfriend from ISIS.
This morning while Sissy prayed to the toilet, I found and took the money she'd been saving (it was in an envelope on the dresser marked "Money to go to Syria"). Next, I ran to Costco for some canned goods, then stopped by my policeman friend's house. I came home and did some stuff in the garage, then called Sissy into the kitchen for breakfast.
Sissy came in wearing a brown sack dress and black scarf that for a split second had me thinking we were under attack by giant ticks. I quickly recovered and we sat down and started eating our massive bowls of chili. I casually mentioned that I picked up a nice used bass boat this morning with some money I'd found on the dresser.
Right on cue, Jihad Sissy jumped up, pulled a knife from under her sack, and attempted to cut my head off. I let her saw on me for a bit until she figured out that under my turtleneck I was wearing a collar of steel (actually tin I had fashioned from a #10 can of Hormel Chili). I brought up the taser I was holding under the table and shot Sissy in the neck. As I squeezed the trigger, she danced around the kitchen making a sound like "BBLLEEGEGEGEGEG!."
When she finally fell down, I tried a little experiment and tossed Mr. Jangles onto her face and hit the trigger again. Sissy again started shaking and yelling "BLEGGGEGGEGGEGG" while Mr. Jangles vibrated like a tuning fork, going "EEEEEEEEEAHHHHH!" in that funny, high-pitched cat voice. It was absolutely hilarious, but I had to stop when smoke started coming from Mr. Jangle's little butthole. It was time for the final phase of my plan - turning Sissy back into a lapsed Methodist.
I grabbed a few pieces of bacon from the fridge and laid them on Sissy's forehead in the sign of the cross. She screamed like a banshee as if in excrushiating a lot of pain. Every time she tried to grab the bacon, I hit her in the face with a Bible until finally she was still. After a few minutes, she got up and changed into a crop top and capri pants, then fried and ate the rest of the bacon. My Sissy was back.