It’s Inspiration Saturday. First Lance Armstrong pedals his way into April fresh panties of Ashley Olsen and now the offspring of a drunken feelabout between the TI-100 and Linda Hamilton was teleported from the future into Rebecca Jones’ womb to save humanity.
Indeed, we have met the John McClane of Fetuses so keep your gosh-durned hands off his Arrowroot Cookies.:

Yippee-ki-yay, motherscratcher! Literally.

Mrs Jones decided to let doctors operate to terminate Gabriel’s life.

Firstly they tried to sever his umbilical cord to cut off his blood supply, but the cord was too strong.

They then cut Mrs Jones’s placenta in half so that when Gabriel died, it would not affect his twin brother.

But after the operation which was meant to end his life, tiny Gabriel had other ideas.

Although he weighed less than a pound, he put up such a fight for survival that doctors called him Rocky.

I can see it now. And hear it. The “Eye of the Tiger” playing in the background. Little Gabriel beating on the side of beef that was his mother’s placenta.

“It was unbelievable.”

“When I felt him kicking madly the morning after the operation, I suddenly knew that he was going to hang on.

“The doctors couldn’t believe it when they could still hear his heartbeat the next morning.”

To think that somewhere in a Tennessee State University womens’ bathroom stall that a latter day Apollo Creed is pulling himself out of toilet in what will be a playground deathmatch for the ages.

I pity the fool.

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