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As I walked home with my shopping bag brimming with tomatoes I noticed Bill Clinton driving a large truck filled with refrigerators. 
 
 Tomatoes, all the store had was god damn tomatoes, and I hated the damned things. Could n't decide if they were a fruit or a vegetable, even had a whole fucking government committee to decide for them! But I was hungry, and in this shitty apocalypse, you took what you could get. Even if all they can salvage from the outside is damned tomatoes. 
 
 The creak and grind of a beat up truck passes me by, hauling a bunch of burned out, rusting refrigerators. And I swear, the man in the driver's seat is a dead ringer for Clinton, albeit a bit shaggier and dirty than his clean suit and tie look on the TV. His truck hits a rut in the road, and the tail pipes fires like a shot gun, scaring the shit out of me and making me drop my damned tomatoes! Well, I picked up one of those fuckers and hurled it at him screaming, `` HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH THIS, YOU LIBERAL SHIT!'' 
 
 **Phrase - And that, officers, is why I am here. **
