Name: Steve

Turn-ons: Po-boys, winged flight, “Treme,” green energy, Canadian offshore oil drilling regulations, which requires both remote safety shutoffs and pre-drilled pressure release wells, french fries and Calgon.

Turn-offs: The MMS, crystal meth, John Goodman’s neck, BP, Haliburton et al, Tony Podesta, Sarah Palin, all this fucking oil that’s on me and Rand Paul’s stupid face.

How I got to be The BEAST Page 3 Cranky Death-bird: Look at me!

Future Plans: Imminent and painful death.

How I’d Like to be Remembered: As the proverbial canary in the coal mine.

Name: Scott Brown

Turn-ons: Drivin’ my truck, rockin’ with my pubes out, teasing my daughters, terrible Democratic campaigns, mentioning my truck, Curt Schilling and drivin’ my truck!

Turn-offs: Non-trucks, people that don’t know anything about baseball, health care and chest hair.

How I got to be The BEAST Page 3 Cosmo Centerfold Winner!: I drove my truck, which I drive, to the photo shoot and I—I won! The contest was between myself and some old lady, but she didn’t try too hard and I drive a truck, so it wasn’t really a contest. Some are calling it the greatest upset in Cosmo history. I call it my truck.

Future Plans: I’m going to drive my truck to the senate, and then drive my truck to the White House! The only question left is whether the bumper sticker on my truck will read “Palin Brown” or “Brown Romney”? “Brown Romney” sounds wicked retahded like some kinda qweah sex move. Go Sox!

How I’d Like to be Remembered: Ah, let’s see… as a guy who drives a truck and as the final nail in the coffin of meaningful health care reform. We done here?

Name: Umar Farouk Abdul Mutallab’s drawers

Turn-ons: Allah, Muhammad (PBUH), the Qur’an, Ṣalāt, violent Jihad, released Gitmo detainees, Pentaerythritol tetranitrate, elastic, cotton, Pete Hoekstra, supporting testicles & infertility.

Turn-offs: “The Hills,” airport body scanners, skid marks, Detroit, interagency cooperation, Santa Claus, joy, peace, flying, ethics, vigilance & chaffing.

How I got to be The BEAST Page 3 Terrorist Undies: I was like any other pair of tighty-whities — made in China, fell off a truck in Yemen and became radicalized. I met Umar in the marketplace, and it turned out we both knew al-Qaeda talent scout Anwar al-Awlaki, so it was only natural that we’d be a terrorist team. And we both hate our dads, but I digress. A lot of people don’t know this, but I was the one who came up with using Pentaerythritol tetranitrate (PETN) to blow up the plane. I have a bad ticker, you see, and my medication Lentonitrat is pure PETN. So, we just crushed up a bottle or two, hopped a plane to Amsterdam and then off to Detroit. And you know the rest. They ripped me to shreds, basically. Infidels!

Future Plans: Although PETN is easy to sneak onto a plane, it’s pretty useless as an explosive on it’s own — it’s usually used as a catalyst to explode more volatile materials, like, C4. And without a blasting cap all it really does is start on fire. LAME! So, I’m going to work out how to smuggle a blasting cap past security — possibly in the tip of a cane! Oh, that’s good! (Don’t tell the Feds.)

How I’d Like to be Remembered: As not only an instrument of Jihad, which I most certainly am, but also as a fashion statement. I mean, no one wears briefs anymore, and I’d like to see that change.

Name: EATR (Energetically Autonomous Tactical Robot)

Turn-ons: Dystopian science fiction, decaying corpses, fudge

Turn-offs: Hippies, blowflies, internal combustion

How I got to be The BEAST Page 3 Flesh-eating Robot: I began in 2003 as just a gleam in a DARPA contractor’s eye. Over the years, thanks to a steady diet of Pentagon money, I have become a full-blown proto-Terminator—like Wall-E with a gun turret and an appetite for biomass. You have to admit, I’m pretty awesome. Even George Lucas didn’t think of battle-droids that ate people to recharge their batteries. Don’t worry, though—just because I can eat you doesn’t mean I will. As the CEO of my engine’s manufacturer says, “We completely understand the public’s concern about futuristic robots feeding on the human population, but that is not our mission.” Of course, they’re not the ones who designed my artificial intelligence, but that guy totally said I’d be programmed not to eat corpses and stick to vegetable matter. Of course, that’s just a line of code that can always be changed later, but that would violate the Geneva conventions, and there’s no way a great country like America would do that, right?

Future Plans: Kicking ass and eating rancid kebab in central Asia.

How I’d Like to be Remembered: As the beginning of a new chapter in evolution, and the eventual cure for human overpopulation.