Walking home to his 940th story apartment, Julius wondered silently to himself if it was really worth it.
A passing stranger turned to him and said, "No, it isn't!"
Julius hauled out his revolver, which all New Yorkers are required to carry by necessity, if not by law and shot the stranger. If there's one thing he hated, it was a telepath.
So, his deep metaphysical thought path derailed, Julius went on a murderous rampage. He was trying to cut down, but this was his fourth this week.
Pizza. Julius wanted pizza. So, rather than go home and order it, he stopped in at the local Domino's. The pizza tasted so bad that Julius had puked for 1/2 hour before he even tasted it. He kissed the cook with his vomit breath and happily skipped home. He was beaten to death twice for walking like a faggot. I mean, this IS New York.
Julius' left arm was suddenly drafted into the American rowing team so he was forced to do things with his right hand, which, being left-handed would normally have fallen on the left to perform.
Shooting was a challenge. He ended up wounding the 7-11 clerk when he robbed the place. He felt bad at only wounding him. It's not right to make animals suffer. So he stuffed Habib into the slurpee machine to drown him. Now, it's not what you're thinking. Habib is white. It's just that his parents always knew he'd grow up to be a 7-11 clerk so they gave him an Iranian name.
After he got home the following month, after climbing 939 flights of stairs (he felt guilty about being such a lazy bastard and taking the elevator for that last floor), he decided to read the Bible while sipping some brandy and smoking crack.
After reading for some time, he came to the conclusion that his right hand DID in fact offend him. However, he no longer had a left hand to chop it off with. So, being the resourceful little boy scout all American lads should be, he grasped a thread in his shirt sleeve with his teeth, and tightened it around his arm. Eventually, the circulation was cut off, and the arm began to rot.
In this state, he was really beginning to wonder if the murderous rampages were worth the trouble. Firing a revolver with your teeth, after all, is no easy task.
However, identifying a mass murderer with one dead arm shooting people with a gun in his mouth IS an easy task.
So, as he sat in the police station waiting for the witnesses to pick him out of the group, he giggled at the officers' attempts to handcuff him. The right arm was now so dead that when they did cuff it, it just fell off anyway.
When he eventually got up to be identified, the witnesses failed to spot him, because they thought that their attacker had at least one arm. Julius now had none. They ended up convicting 98-year old Mrs. Pickering of Manhattan. It was okay though, because Mrs. Pickering deserved the death penalty. She sent money to television evangelists, which kept their shows running.
Julius was so happy that he grew new arms out of sheer joy.
He used these arms to beat himself about the face and neck with jagged pieces of glass, such as broken bottles and dead poodles. They're made of glass, you know. Just REAL soft glass.
This is the way the Hungarians celebrate St. Anchovy's Day. Julius was not Hungarian. He did eat a lot of sausage, however.
Julius then went home and watched every single episode of MacGyver, which he had on videotape. Then he built a tank from things he had lying around the kitchen and invaded Quebec.
Quebec, being of French blood, immediately surrendered. Julius, being easily annoyed by cowardice, shot himself with his own tank cannon to show them what a real man is made of. Apparently, as they all saw, a real man is made up of some bones, lots of blood, a bunch of muscles and a strange assortment of internal organs.
Well, by this point, Julius was getting pretty exhausted, so his scattered parts settled down for a little nap. He woke up to find that most of his vital organs had been devoured in the night by wild ticks. He had always been rather fond of most of his organs. Particularly his left kidney, his gall bladder and his prepuce.
A prepuce is not a vital organ for most people, but it was for Julius. He was *SPECIAL*. His mom told him so.
His mom was King Kong Bundy, of the World Wrestling Federation. His father was Bill Gates.
Eventually, Julius was found by a roaming pack of wild mechanical engineers, who managed to fabricate an artifical prepuce for him, which performed all the vital functions of his original one. To show his gratitude, he did a pirouette while standing in a blender. Then he hobbled back to New York on one good foot and one ground up one.
When he got back, he found that his apartment had been stolen, because he had forgotten to Club (tm) the damn thing.
However, he kept a spare apartment in his neighbour's nostril for just such an occasion. Unfortunately, the thieves had got the nostril too. They had left the nose though.
Julius got fed up with New York and donated it to the Salvation Army, where it stayed for eternity, because no one would buy the damn thing.
Julius moved to Uganda and started a hamster farm, where he lived happily ever after, until he died six seconds later.