Bill called upon Satan to help him win the race, but victory was not without its price.
Tricking the women and cheating your way into the female marathon proved to be suprisingly easy.
Tired of being beaten by younger, better looking tri-athletes, Roy switched on the nitrous.
Rick was starting to slow down as he reverted back to his true form.
Jim had well gotten used to life under the Witness Relocation Program... except for the hair-transplant and the cleverly deceptive sex change.
Ghost Rider's cousin sold his soul to a homeless dude. It was still a pretty sweet deal though.
The president of the Local Conservative Committee of America infiltrates the gay pride parade as a black lesbian.
It wasn't until the middle of the race that Bill realized that maybe, just maybe, his sex-change doctor was a quack.
Jim thought that wearing the skin of a fitter athlete would help. He thought wrong.
Save this image. Someday, somehow, it will be exactly the right metaphor.
When they asked Wrestling advocates for advice on how to draw more attention to the sport, competitive runners were not prepared for the results.
It was a long wait outside the county department of mental health, but the voice over the speaker finally crackled, "Now serving number 309..."
If only I had worn my naked woman pants as well. I hate to wear half an outfit. I must look like an idiot.
What hurt the most, was that Jim had woken that morning and chosen to look like that.
"Ok, I'm fine with that. Have a good day, Mr. Leighty. You can pay your fine downstairs."
"Yep, that's it. Have a good day."
I went back to work and stared at Jim's gargantuan breasts.