First, you take the glass. Then, lick it slowly up it down. Slowly insert it into the mouth. Take it slow. Don't rush it... and before you know it... <gish><blak><nerg><atlanticocean>.
Death by Babble. Attempt #1.
I opened my eyes, caustiously. On my face was a large locust in
the shape of a pear. It was secreting huge gobs of liquid meat all
over my face. I grimaced musically.
I died.
Death by Babble. Attempt #2.
Bifmofacualar Unit stood nervously outside of the office. He
glimpsed foolishly at a small yet pregnant secretary.
"Stop drooling." she wimpered voraciously.
Bifmofacualar just grinned like a styrofoam addict. Little did
the secretary know that the fluid currently seeping out of his
mouth was not, in fact, saliva, but stomach acid and urine. He let
his eyes wander towards the carpet, where he saw two small holes.
He giggled enormously.
He died.
Always wet. That's what I was, that's what my friends called me.
But, that's perfectly relevant to my story as a punch myself
lightly in the head. It all started back... Way back. So goddamn
back, you'd have to have a ten-foot pole just to see the left
speaker as it dripped molassas on me.
"Hey, care to buy me an ulcer?" she told me. I remember it like
it was all fuzzy and smooth, like a new born chick in the throes of
death. The weave was tight, the threads, bright. If I had a gun,
I'd lick it. But noooo, she just hadda change channels. I shot
her. The gunblast rang out like an overused simile in a cave in
the Grand Canyon. She looked down at the neat hole in her left
knee the bullet had left in her. She fell. She never hit the
ground because a hole opened up under her and sucked her down in
it's inky depths.
"How odd," I thought. "She never goes ANYWHERE without saying
goodbye..."
But my thoughts were elsewhere as I hopped in my Pinto and left
for that great grey leaf in the ground. I stopped off at a bar
called Your Mother's Womb. It was quite subtle. I spotted the
Oreo cookie across the room.
"Hey! Memorex!"
Great, I thought, just great. All I needed were his useless
anachorisms and anarchistic speaker covers.
"Wanna buy a speaker cover? I got a great deal on this Total
Chaos's."
"Forget it, moonya, I'm married."
"C'mon, we all do it once in a while."
"Who you callin' 'we'?"
"C'mon... ya wanna be cool, doncha?"
"Aaaaaaarrrrrgg."
I took his speaker covers and fucked the radio 'til it screamed
the periodic table in a frenzy of speechless dial soap commercials.
"Heheh. Knew I'd get ya."
I woke up an hour later, in a tastefully decorated lamb spleen.
The lights went out.
"Where am I?"
"How cliche."
"Who are you?"
"How cliche."
"Ok, yellow polkadots. That's not cliche."
"How cliche."
Sudden realisation hit me like a brick on a sunny day. They had
locked me in a spleen with Kev. How cruel can one school of
blowfish get?
A vein suddenly screamed in the lining of the spleen. A door
opened in the side and a clock walked in and started whispering
'col' llamain' with Aack' until I went insane.
Then I died.
Or Vandenshburg ate pudding, turned into a hideously cute yet deformed tentacled creature, sprayed spittle all over his office thus ruining the ugly wallpaper, and left. "But that's nice!" Mrs. Ward contributed.
Muthahfuckah!!!
"Well, call me a minor ailment," replied Bill, to what, was mystery that, if solved, would explain largely, the quantum theory of matter and the problem of the effect of yams on rubber shoe souls, all in one saut de la kill. But, no-one understood it, and so quantum matter and yams remained wholly unsolved.
But, hey, that's it, he thought because his locker was an impossible shade and he LIKED it... I guess.
"I only THINK I had a colt .44 in my car." But, it wasn't going
to work. A hole in the fabric of exsistance opened itself and
sucked him down, made a good meal of his empty shell of a body, and
burped loudly, which was rude, in front of all those dinner guests.
It WAS after all the Hall of Asgard.
The new guy was quite...well, new(synonyms are SO inconvienient).
He was tall(5 ft.), wide(5 ft.) and his head was of a normal
radius(5 ft.). His eyes were stange(blue), his hard was
orthodox(blue) and his feet were large(blue).
-The moral of the story:
"Don't fuck with mother nature"
-A greek saying, from a cathlic
greek in wyoming.
Suddenly, the bus arrived and they oozed out slowly, add one(1) point for each egg. Then the chief injun shot the sun, causing them to leap from the summit. 'Now, this is good beer!', the president asked Nicaragua, which cried, 'Well hear rexanthal.' Then it sopped. The Beastie Boys played a quick game of Yahtzee(Jr. Edition, sadly), but that made the tide unbearable so we left for Yugoslavia immediately, after a five year cooling period. "Santa?", cried Wayne. "Oh.", lied Santa, after he finished his third cup. Their faces richocheted off the hard-core fleele, causing that famous ice-age.
When the meeting re-adjourned, the judge found the jury guilty of 180-degree rape, on all counts. The cop, got so. Mad. He shot. The head horse said 'Here, here' and the pygmies went wild. 'No, not that pigskin!' The warrior busted a pose. But Arsenio would have no part of it, and he swallowed his face whole. 'Next, the mormons went on the bat and the third one puked the entire time!,' Rick Dangerous wondered to himself as his face came alive with hatred for bacon everywhere, and he had lunch, because it was the only meal between brek. Add 3(three) points, for everything in Guatamala. Now he toasted the hell out of what I would call an innocent bystander.
The Liers Club
... and he walked right into the large vat of pablum. Nurse Kelners ran over to him and called him names. He encouraged her to shut up, but soon found that
it was completely futile, so he enjoyed it. Suddenly a HUGE kitten named BifTech walked in and ate his ENTIRE face. He agree wholeheartedly, after a nearby vat of beige purt the entire situation into perspective, and slipped him $20 not to tell the large brown plush penguins that were lurking around the corner with a large herd of angry oriental politicians. Suddenly again, a small flourescent black breifcase walked in and declared the story too weird and ended it by saying 'Cartilage rules..'
To be continued..
One day, Sid and me were hurling chunks of alphebet soup down the street. We got bored and skateboarded on some earrings. Then a catatonic orange rolled near us and didn't say anything. Just sorta stared at nowhere. We promptly took out our video camaras and taped two dogs having a toilet fight. Bill laughed. At any rate, we ended up with sand stuck to everything and Greg's armadillo was just lying there, not moving. Suddenly, killer bees from Austria began to do really normal things with scotch tape and go "Zeep, nip, yech, reep." We thought this odd, so we began to flip through pages of "The sun also rises." almost at random. Everyone was wearing sweaterjeans and picking lint out of their hair. I rammed it down further and Joey said "Hey, y'know..." but I didn't really listen to him. I wore my big spiral tennis shoes and net-lace pants and my table-leg shirt. "Quite jaques coustou," my bud Jeff remarked resciliantly. "Hey, Barb" Jon said. Suddenly, Jamie started screaming hysterically cause therewas a small turd in the middle of his glass floor. For no apparent reason, Greg put pennies in his eyes and began snorting dog fur. "Damn" I quickly stuffed tissue and recited. "You really don't care about cheese and alternatives to accounting cycles, do you?"
I died.
Flower pots were arranged concentrically around George, as he
looked around passively for an escape. The pots were moving swiftly
and soon they would overtake his liver, and use it for some evil
plan that the herbicidal scientists had feared for years. In this
panic his sister came over and poured urine over her brothers head.
She was in this manic plot too! He tried to jump over them but the
quick ferns were already wrapping themselves over his sweet ankles.
The potted Habiscus turned on the radio to Q-107 and proceeded to
devour the urine coated forehead of the frantically kicking George.
The tasmanian vine got the scalpal and began surgery without
anethesia to remove his healthy liver. Of course he wouldn't have
done the surgery if had known that plants can't operate, but he was
not omniescent. Carefully they put the liver that was dripping
blood into the kelvinator refridgerator when they were done.
Horatio at this time was involved in some Shakesperean play and was
interrupted during the rehersal by the ringing of the telephone. As
he answered he became quite peeved when the party at the other end
refuse to give him 5 million reasons why he shouldn't pick his
clothes from the cleaners. " HEY HORATIO, WERE COMING TO GET YOU !"
, said the voice. He hung up immediately because the nazi 's were
coming to get him because he knew the square root of two correct to
fifty decimal places. How thoughtful thought mary as she sniffed at
the box of dog shit that somehad sent her. Mmmmm she quietly
whispered to the atmosphere as she placed the shit in a vase and
sang the funky cold medina . Unfortunately her neighbours had
forgotten to bring the cheese to the movies and they had nothing to
throw during the interlude. She also forgot her money and was
inadvertantly killed for such a crime. After that she recieved a
check from the government for doing such a good job by breaking an
international air ring single handedly. Lucky for her she brought
her magnets to the airport and rounded up all the caterpillers off
the runway in the morning before they all got squished under the
Jumbo Jet's tires all kinds. But she was dead and the check didn't
matter anymore. The government was just pretending to be nice but
they mailed the money after they knew she was dead and they knew
that they would get the money back anyway. Over and Over the little
kid at the park would push the swing and stand their until it swung
back and hit him square in the nose. After the thirty second
repetition the policeman came over and questioned the kid what the
fuck he was doing. He was given an explanation and the cop started
to pull moons to all the mothers with kids. Nice park, really.
Now the shit was happening. George woke up to find his liver being
fried for breakfast by his possesed sister. He screamed to god - I
want a fucking smartie - now! Unless it was blue he would not be
able to call it blue. It was the only means of unpossesing his
sister. Shit he said as he mailed another letter to himself to
pretend he was popular. His sister cut off her elbow and added to
the the frying pan. Nice , real nice, he thought as he ripped of
the clothes of his fuck-me-till-I'm-dead-BARBIE. He felt satisfied
as he chucked the used dripping doll out into the happy glad
garbage-fucking bag. How graceful he thought. How had he been able
to tolerate this household for so long? Fortunately he found his
happy pills and dropped three onto his palate, counted carefully to
ten and popped them into his mouth. He felt happy. The policeman
received a message over his walkie-talkie and he started to talk
slowly. "No! I don't feel like crusing in the car right now." "What
do you mean that I'm fired. Fuck you!" A bird flew over gracefully.
(This is highly thematic) A cowboy junkie walked by and shook his
head. The nazis came over in a Volkswagen bus and knocked on
George's door. He came to the door and answered it with a huge grin
on his face. "Hi guys!"
"Give me the formula NOW!"
"But I forgot my toothbrush at Rob's house."
"Hans, get me the portable torture chamber."
"You wouldn't happen to have some smarties would you?"
"Kill him!"
"I feel like a beer right now."
"Thats funny",says Hans,"You don't look like a beer."
Suddenly the huge marigold experiment ran out from the backyard and
pummeled the vicious nazis over the head with a weed eater. George
fell over and screamed to his sister to get him zee zoo poo. With
forceful laughter he heaved in disgust at the moments that
preceeded the landing of the bird shit on the road. How pleasant he
thought. The experiment had been a sucess! The hericidal physicists
had perfected the watch plant and were currently trying to discover
some undiscovered prehistoric bicycle. Now that it had been proven,
George ran inside to do the wild thing with his sister who was
still busy delimbing herself with a comb. A dull one at that. He
checked the time and screamed. He had forgotten that he couldn't
read those thoroughly difficult clocks with two hands. Within the
time frame of two point two seconds the earth shook so violently
that George thought that he hit his sisters G spot. Oh shit! He
forgot that the people's court was on right now. He chucked his
sister into the portable torture chamber and she began to sing.
Lovely he thought. Instead of the peoples court their was a news
flash about a cop who went awol and some kid who smashed in his
forehead politely at the community park. They probably had blue
smarties, thought George. What was this neighbourhood coming to?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH x 5
He died.
Guy1: So, whatdya wanna do tonite?
Guy3: dunno, where's guy2, anyway?
Guy1: Dunno.
Guy3: Sigh!
Guy1: What?
Guy3: Hmmm... nothing...
Nut: Hi guys...
Guy1: Oh no, not you. Fuck off you loser
Nut: Awwww... <Starts crying>
Guy3: Jeez, looking Guy1, ya went and hurt his feelings.
Guy1: Golly, sorry Nut, I didn't mean it.
Nut: Oh, that's ok, I guess. Hey, Where's Guy2?
Guy1&2: We dunno.
Nut: I'm a female gender nut, y'know
Guy1: GREAT! Let's have sex.
Guy2: Nah, we did that last week.
Guy1&Nut: Oh, ya.
[All die.]
The man got up. He felt woozy. His went downstairs to the kitchen to look for a job, but all he found was his wife. He leaned over and kissed her then they sat down to breakfast. The man got up went over to the cupboard, got out a straw which he then inserted into his wife's shoulder. It hurt.
They both died.
Dear Mom and Dad:
How are you? I'm melonchy, thanks(as if you asked). Well, I lost my limbs on Monday, but enough of boring, old me. How's Mrs. Schecter's cat? I'd write more, but my jaws are getting tired.
Hate,
John
P.S. I died.
Dee jauntily dribbled the basketball into Isacc. Isacc chuckled painfully, and began to fester like an empty taco. A smathering of sauce fell from a seemingly Egyptian marrow bucket, encompassing several dozen unwilling pedestrians in a virtual cavalcade of Spanish pride and flaming gravestones. Dee and Isacc were really surprised, but happy. Isacc took advantage of the moment and burrowed inside Dee's skull. A large but deaf man walked up to Dee and asked her. "What happened?" Inside her head, Isacc yelped "Nothing, get lost." "Pardon me?," winced the large yet strangely deaf Indian cheif. "Fuck off." screamed Isacc rambunctously.
All three of them died.
Once upon a time there was...
No.
One day, ...
Not really.
It was bright and sunny that day...
Way off.
FACE!
Much better.
FACE! and I was in a tunnel. For some reason, Matt insisted, and they all round and round until they got sick and tossed the bicep al la flambe and shake n sip menstral blood that they had had the evening before.
"Yes, but if centrifugal force holds true, then science might actually be a passive hobby, and life would be existance. BUT, if you don't like the way things around here are run, you can just stick your finger in your ear until your intestines. Now take your friends and eat them 'till you spit."
"Yes, but..."
Bill screamed because the point he had been working so hard to establish had been demolished by two simple words. Rick quickly.
Eventually, we all stopped eating suddenly and discussed quantum blond theory and sexual molecules. Shit, it was a fun time. Really, swell right.
STOP EATING. Die.
I got up, had breakfast. Cornflakes, I think it was. I had a shower. Then I read the paper. Suddenly, I turned into a Gherkin Pickle. I was quite surprised and I spent the rest of the summer wondering how it happened.
Later, I died.
Taylor laid back comfortably on his couch. He quickly recalled his life. His birth had been quick and easy, although he had been surprised at his new environment. He had entered his home, met his family and quickly grown used to them. He watched a lot of TV, and began attending nursery school at age five. He soon moved on to Kindergarten and public school, and soon he was in high school. He got a job at a restaurant which he kept all through university. He had gotten married and successfully mated with his wife, producing two babies which moved in with him. He like his so far, but as he turned sideways he saw a chunk of metal, which startled him so much he puked. He later committed suicide. Thank you.
There was light, and there was a house. It was mad. A madhouse. MadMadHouse. In it there was a man. The man was named 'Man.' One particularily day day Man went to his farm to feed the artichokes and water the livestock. Suddenly, an idea stuck Man. He built a nuclear bomb and blew the entire planet to bits. A new Universe was created, this one more bizzarre then the last, and it was bad. BAD BADB AD BDA ADB bad. Just plain bad.
"Oh damn," 2Man said(exclaimed).
2Man built a nuclear bomb also, but because the new universe is
inexplicable, and inexplicable thing had to happen. The livestock
exploded. The light was bad. The darkness was bad. Everything
was a shade of hot pink.
"Great," 2Man said. He just wanted to destroy himself and get it
over with. Leave the problems of the next universe for 3Man and
have done.
So, 2Man invented language, walkmen, VCR's and other things in his search for oblivion. Suddenly, he looked at the things he invented and relized how much fun they were. He didn't want to die after all. That's when he died.
"Funky" 3Man exclaimed, however resiliantly he happened to do it, it didn't matter because he was totally lost and his walkman had no batteries, so he ate the ram and chewed the worm and inserted slot Z into slot A, just to confuse the hell out of everyone "Stratavarious" grak!
<We, incidentally, are Sin(Pie(InfinityX3\12.34-175) a big number.>
Y'know. Eventually, he released him and got wretched.
They ALL died, bigtime.
A Poem/Story/Article/Conversation/Play/Instructional Video/Subliminal tape which you listen to while you sleep/Language record/Rock Video/Movie/Cartoon/8-track cassette/Time-Life book/ Full-length novel/Epic/Trilogy/Trilogy in four parts/Epic in pi parts/Computer program/Note/Contract/Drug/Video tape/Skit/Broadway show/Musical/Mime/Encyclopidia/Guatemalian/English English/Chile dictionary/Coles notes/Magazine/Newspaper/Text file/Essay/TV show/Sitcom/General All-purpose acrid detergent.
Once...
It died.
Once, there was a family that lived on Venus. But there's no oxygen on Venus, so they died.
SO, I after the scenario involving the sidewalk, my ancestors came to kill me. Spatula. If you push the red button, and small, yet strangely obscene goats somehow manage to get wedged in that little space between my teeth. I went to my medium and asked her to take birth control pills. She was unwilling but fortunately, I had a modem... She ingested that, and began to spiralate until flames did nothing, they just sat there. Boring flames. Y'know. Then, a gwid was at the end of my face and the lamp was just sitting there. "Humour anyone?", asked a man dressed in only a small wafer. The hardhat was yellow, and the revolution began a minute later. Unfortunately, television crews were lurking nearby, so the Pope had sex with the small guy who sits near our locker. What a day that was. One for the spicerack, lemme tell ya. About this time, my radio was yelling at the pig to turn down the noise, and the officers were generally promoting each other as high as possible. "What?? You were in the barrel" said the man with the gun, and wallpaper began to migrate south at an effeciency rate of 45. I slashed myself and hung my wrists. Life, it's like a light, only its a bit dimmer. I couldn't help but laugh as the hearse pulled into the circus. What a mixup!! It was supposed to go to the afterlife, but oh no, the driver just insisted that this was the Martigras. So, there we were, on a cloud, when suddenly, a RRSP approched from out of nowhere and invited us back to his place for a cup of future and a life insurance policy. Crock! I yelled as Hampshire pulled up and demanded to know what exactly New Hampshire and I used my cloaking device, laughing heinously, but, OH NO!!!
When I finally awoke about 6 hours later, I felt that all my blood had gone right to my hair. Bet it was red. It dripped down my Hispanic as I screamed in terror. I decided that I deserved to win a nice jacket with a trendy aviation saying on it. Kill, kill, mocha. I prayed that my new ultra-trendy avaitor jacket would have little black spots all over it. Call it an introverted fantasy, I call it lucheon meat, but to each his life. I glanced at my wrist, and saw a speckled herring resting peacfully in death. If I had wrists, that is, but I have a strange birth defect.. hands, but no knees. What a strange place life is, the poster bearer cried, and the masses applauded, but a bit too loudly, so Mr. Teririr had to have sex with a mirror. What a disgusting act of callous hatred. "Well, look at China." came a voice from out of nowhere. "God?", asked right speaker. "No" answered left speaker. And, before middle speaker could get a word in lengthwise, a small obscene rubarb plant was performing in the Circus show. The tent was ablaze, andthe crowds were loving every minute of it, except one, when the charred and smoking rubarb destroyed them all!!!!!!!!!
The maitre d' waltzed casually out of the classroom, explaining himself with a song and an eggplant. His hair lept on his face and they began fornicating at a rate that would shock YOUR MOTHER!!! And any physisists that happened to be in the room. But they weren't, thank god. Nothing worse than a room of shocked guys. EXCEPT a circus full of burning rubarb and a pie to boot. The WORST of all is when water goes communist. That SUCKS, lemme tell you, but not as bad as when a library become an egotist in a wet sandwich, the second worst thing in the universe after that stuff. sponsibility, facilitatecommunicat
Slowly, very slowly, I watched as the majestic yak emerged slowly from the gentle mist. I slowly let my eyes wander all over its body, I slowly noticed a
fine mist on top of its fur. I slowly wandered over to it. Its mouth slowly formed a smile. I slowly raised my hand and slowly stroked its head. Slowly it
raised its head and slowly said "Why are you doing everything so fucking slowly?", and it slowly sprinted off in the direction of Libya.
I died.. slowly.
I woke up extremely quickly and stared at the person beside me.
"Who are you?"
"You must know."
"No, I don't."
"Damn."
We stared at each other blankly as the Soviet Union passed on a
parade float.
"Hmmm... that was the Soviet Union."
"Yep."
About this time, I became frustrated at his total lack of
conversational etiquette. I offered him a knife, my eyes subtly
implying what he should do with it.
He grinned.
"Scream", I screamed. I jibber-jabbered the knife all over his
guts, privates, limbs, and respiratory tract.
"Well, dammit, what have you got to say now?"
He leaked a bit. "Ainga." He died.
I breathed at him. He fainted.
I took his lifeless yet inert body and pushed it into my humble
bedroom. I removed his outer garments and threw his head down my
sink. He woke up, luckily, and removed himself from my bathroom
just as I was about to pour Crest toothpaste into the witches brew
already smouldering in the sink. He kissed me and waltzed out of
my life forever.
I haven't died yet.
The suspense was really getting to me, so I grabbed for my puppy,
Edith, and began ministrating him with sand and some left over
jello I found meandering in my fridge. I was hot now!
My old English teacher was there. She disliked what she saw,
removed her left toe to reveal the plithera of animals she had
hidden in her body. They came out with a "YAWP!" and faced the
harsh reality of my face?
As they raced off onto the dark side of the moon, I wandered, will
they ever be back to experiance the pain of Xendrix and the anguish
of the Oreo moonya? I supposed not, and paid more attention to
matters at hand.
"So," I yelled down at my feet. "Though you could fool me with
that old 'animals in my toe' trick, eh?"
Failing to reply, the ran off, only to be caught by a large
printing press that just happened to be blowing bubbles in a
corner. Coincidence? No.
I removed the rubber gloves that had appeared suddenly.
Die.
I had my intestines vasectomied that day. It was a grand day, the
type of day you just want to jump out of your skin and bury your
pink carcass in the dirt. The day was cold and wet, but pleasent,
the type of pleasent that makes you want to puke, that 'have a nice
day' sort of pleasent. I was flipping through the dictionary,
looking for the word 'khkhkhkhkheeeeeeeepw' (and wasn't at all
surprised to find it under 'N' between the words 'Negligee' and
'Curator') when this strikingly wide young female approached me and
tweaked my nose like it was asparagus.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't MaryJulie3, and how are we this
fine(but wet and cold) day."
"Yes"
"Well, that's good." And I promptly gave her a flying tackle and
beat her to death with a blade of grass I had found lying one day
by my father's favorite book '101 uses for a dead kitten, and why
you would want to'. She was much to pleasent for anyone's liking.
Now, to resume my tale of decedance and greenness, I suddenly
found myself a frog. God! Did I ever feel like a venus fly trap.
I made myself dive into the murky depths of the jello mould my son
had made for me from clay during his 'Rodent years.' Suddenly, I
died.
Last may in 1968 when I had but three years, I was really quite
harassed. but now I'm fine. I've got a wife, two kids, a daughter
a son, a fish, a hamster, a BMW, a picket fence, a quaint house in
the suburbs, a small white dog, a television, carpeting, a pool, a
holy bible, some markers, some used bingo cards, two thousand
frozen mega sarcastic yugoslavians...but thats another story.
I'm a pimp. It's what I am, it's what I do. I sell teenage
bodies to elderly perverts for a price, but I digress. Sure, I
used to smoke buddha and other oriental gods but c'est irrelevant,
n'est pa? Me too.
One day I was rollerbowling in southwest Lebanon when suddenly the girl of my dreams walked in. She stood in the doorway..the cultimation of 12 (twelve) years of technology. The sun from the door accented her illustrious blond hair. She stared at me with her deep blue eyes and said "Funky". I was SO happy. You should've seen me. Holy. I knew I had to said EXACTLY the right thing... "Hi" I spewed. She laughed.. we got married and had 127 kids. I liked it a lot. I told her about my birthmark and she ran out of the house screaming.
I realized my fatal mistake. Now I was alone in the house with 328 (they multipied) hungry half human/half llamas (I DID mention that she was a llama?) Fuck, I didn't even know how to play quishel. I knew what had to be done. I got out my uzzi and annihilated the living fungus out of my semi-children.
Ten years later I found myself on death row, just visiting thank god. I promptly left and got a job in a deli. Every night I would work then go skeet chasing in the hills, if I could rent a dog to help me, but I never could so I didn't. I was making money. One day I had to wash dishes and got dishpan hands. I realized I was directly related to my boss.
Everyone died.
Wiggle, wiggle. Wiggle. Luke wiggled. Wiggle. His arm came off
suddenly...again. The dark lord stood above him. Luke looked up.
He wiggled. The dark lord was impressed.
"So, you have worked well, my son." he uttered.
"No! NEVER!" Luke wiggled.
"Oh, OK, fine." And the dark lord left.
"Rippled spinal coreds!" she yelped in boredom as Prak massaged
body parts whcih we dare not mention in this story.
"Oh, feed up." belched John, the only man who changed his name
every other second.
"But...but...but..."
"No, sorry, this is a no shoes, no neck hairs, no service joint,
sir."
"Don't sir me."
"Oh, better make it four then."
"Ack!"
(s)He ran, singing an instrumental that is yet to be written.
"Forth floor, please."
"O.oh, sorry. Didn't know I was crowding you."
"Keep your hands off the level!!!"
"Good point."
"No, I won't buy that."
No! Not yet.
"So.. you admit that you are, and use, pacifiers. CORRECT?"
"Maybe."
"GRAAAARGGGHHH"
"The crowd roars."
NONE!!
NONE!!
NONE!!
NONE!!