There's something to be said for fake body parts. Most implants or prosthetics serve at least one purpose, either aesthetically or physically. For instance, breast implants: look good and, depending on whom you ask, feel good. Or a prosthetic leg, which is has an obvious physical advantage that needs no explanation. But these fake-ass synthol-bloated jack asses, much to their oblivion, are accomplishing nothing, which is why this is truly story we at HPO have to label it as a sad, sad case. Senor Jelly arms has neither a physical or aesthetic advantage other than the frightened expression he conjures up from onlookers that only a man who has shoved several fetus heads, a couple of Nerf products and few honeydew melons under his skin could attain. To wit, his muscles seem to be as loose as Paris Hilton's vagina.