I met my very own John the Baptist this week.
He was a friendly reverend with the Baptists down the street, and we were having dinner at an ecumenical gathering. Unfortunately, he was a little clumsy and spilled his Tropical Punch juice all over my feet, soaking the extra absorbent socks I was wearing.
A voice cried out in the wilderness, "I baptize you not with water, but with Tropicana..."
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