Evident to everyone but himself, frank the alligator was not actually a chameleon.
For Mike, a flaming bag of dogshit simply wasn't good enough.
With Steve Irwin gone, the crocodiles were free to terrorize suburbia once again.
Unfortunatly, this Jehova's witness didn't make it indoors before 2 a.m., revealing his true form.
You thought you could escape me by retiring? Think again, Hook!
Claw returns to the swamp of his birth, only to find it changed.
Finally, the gator collapsed against his house and wept. His life was empty.
In a world that didn't understand, an alligator and a house explore a love that defied tradition, species, and even logic.
The guard-bird was subsequently fired.
When the spell broke, Gator Bob stopped dancing, astonished that she was not in fact a princess, but a two-bedroom, two-bath house with nary a pool or basement.
The Jones' new theft-deterrent system was subtle, yet effective.
Try the new Jizz Cola
George knew he had to make this sale, his record thus far had been disapointing
"Don't be silly Timmy. Alligators can't ring the doorbell. Now go and answer the door."
I told you, Frank, people are going to be afraid to wipe their feet on that thing. You could have at least killed it first.