In this thrilling bout of athletic prowess, each church that enters the Olympics will put forth their greatest grumbler. They will find their best complainer, the person who is never happy, never tired of whining and forever spreading verbal vinegar or paragraphs of poison and then put them on top of a platform. The platform will be ten feet high and will be sticking out of a pool of Miracle Whip and Cinnabons. (Miracle Whip is like mayonnaise’s underachieving cousin and Cinnabons smell roughly 900% better than they actually taste. So as they’re falling the loser will briefly think they’re about to land in a delicious cinnamon roll. Nope. Just a Cinnabon slathered with Miracle Whip.)
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