Frank Dieselwang burst out of his gelatinous prison with a potent flex of his abdominals at approximately the force of a minor Bay Area earthquake. You know, one of the ones that you could probably sleep through but would freak the heck out of anyone from the East Coast who happened to be visiting a the time. Striding triumphantly through the thin plastic prison of Dr. Jello’s conniving trap, he glared down his former captor as green lime jello clung to his chiseled form. Spitting out a pint of green slop onto the ground, he sucked in a deep breath of air before declaring, “You’re next.”
