My competitive eating gig only lasted so long. At one event, they asked me to eat oysters. I told them to go fuck themselves, because as I’ve said all my life, “If it’s from the sea, it’s not for me.”
The organizer didn’t take to kindly to this, so I murdered him. Wasn’t that hard, he was fat and couldn’t run very fast.
After that ended, I took solace in spending some of the money Jimmy and I had made running an organized crime syndicate. I started my own construction business. As you can see here, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, as I revert to my fathers tyrannical rule on me, I imposed my tyrannical rule on this half retarded construction worker. I mean honestly. Who holds a hammer like that.
Plus, I wore a Darth Vader tshirt to let them know I was serious.
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