Once there was a purple monkey named Jack who was possessed by the seven demons of Word. Jack wasn't really a purple monkey. He just thought he was because he was possessed by demons. He was actually a very successful business executive named Clarence. But that's beside the point.

Anyway, the seven demons of Word were named Dude, Man, Dawg, Avril, Butthole, and Ramón. Also, because that's only six, there was one named Flora.

It was all an accident, the possessing. The demons were supposed to be inside an old man named Carl. But they took a wrong turn at the busted oak tree and ended up in Clarence's sink. He was brushing his teeth.

"Who are you?" Clarence asked, his words slightly muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth.

"We are the seven demons of Word, Dude, Man, Dawg, Avril, Butthole, Ramón, and Flora. We're here to possess you."

"Oh," said Clarence. "Okay, then."

The seven demons of Word made Clarence do terrible things. Except that now there were only six, because I decapitated Avril and dipped her head in tofu juice. It's a long story.

So the six demons of Word made Clarence do terrible things like walk around naked and fling llama dung at people. They also made him write stuff like this:

"As he touched me, I could feel the heat from his body on my skin. As he slowly thrust into me, he moaned my name. "Jamie," he said. "Oh, Jamie."

Needless to say, after several hours of writing bad sex scenes, Clarence had had enough. He decided to talk to the six demons of Word. So he did. "Hey, six demons of Word! Go possess someone else!"

"No," said Flora, who was the only one listening.

Clarence tried again. "Please? I'll give you a dollar."

"No," said Flora. "Now go away; I'm trying to watch HBO."

"We don't get HBO," Clarence pointed out, wondering how they got TV inside his head at all.

"YOU don't get HBO."

"You live in my head, and my head doesn't get satellite."

"It does now. Now go away."

"You go away. It's my head!"

"It's my head too. Now go away." And Clarence, who thought he was Jack the purple monkey, turned into a toenail clipping.

"Hey," Clarence tried to say. "What'd you do that for?" But since toenail clippings that used to be business executives named Clarence who thought they were purple monkeys named Jack couldn't talk, all he managed to do was wriggle a few millimeters to the left.

"Since when do we use the metric system?" asked Flora.

"I decided to. How come you're not possessing me anymore?" For some reason, he could suddenly talk.

Ramón stepped out from behind Flora. Clearing his throat for dramatic emphasis, he pronounced: "Kind of hard to possess a toenail clipping, isn't it?"

"What? I'm not a…" He looked down. He was.

"Well, if you don't mind," said Butthole, "our jobs are done here. So let's go!" He and his five friends jumped onto the horses that had been conveniently placed in the front yard and left.

"Wait!" Clarence shouted. "I thought I was the protagonist!"

"Nope," cackled Dude, the leader of the Six Demons of Word, "you're nothing but an ANTAGONIST! And now you're defeated! Ha ha!"

The six demons of Word galloped away into the sunset on their chestnut-brown stallions. Whatever that means.

"Ah," said Man, who hadn't had any lines. "I wonder why American English is so redundant?"

"I don't know," said Dude, who didn't know. "But whyever it is, it's all just another day for the seven demons of Word."