da!"
-"What?"
da!!! !!! ! Oh, I'm sorry! I mean it's the Asperger Syndromeda Galaxy and... Where we are; anything are happening and happening are
he could remember but he couldn't remember why he could remember...
as consultant to the faculty that organize the final extinction of the Areuserious Wretch, but as usual he wasn't the only *** on that line so
the poor little parakeet became so small that he could fly through solid barriers while the publicity stuntman tore what hair he had left from his baldy scalp and got into hot air balloons instead from which the staff could monitor the Areuserious Wretch as its devastation grew in wider and wider circles all over the state of Colorado and its neighbor Utah and everybody sheered it on thinking that the Mormons are gonna like this remnant from the time when the earth was younger than Brigham Young
cut all ties to... but when all seemed lost the outpost yelled out, we've got company, and everybody saw who because on the horizon was not a sandstorm but the dust clouds of the spinning maniac team of Mogfelat & Ligferrat aiming to trick that Wretched Areuserious and boy, are they serious... and everybody (+ some) cheered as the monstrosity of neither reason nor logic lumbered on in quiet mania, coming closer and closer to that cul de sac were everything
balloon weilding eating equipment at the tail of the Wretched Areuserious who'd fell asleep in the quiet cul de sac, totally unaware of the ghost of Jawseph Schtalin, drunk as a
pose! I will not... Don't you know who I am! Not? ¤&#"(!=¤(/#"!!!
*silence permeates the set*
sssssorrrry... guys, it's this method-acting that begets me. Would you police move that s-k-u-n-k to its proper lodgings... Tanks... Oh Kay, werewolf werewee... alright, tidbit
*the set breathes out; its color slowly returning*
"Sch!!! Out me? Are you serious?" he said allegedly suspiciously...
*pancakes*
"Camera!!! Tae Kwon..."
*pancreas*
"Do!!! Deskaden!!!"
me!!! I mean... Who do they think they are? I'm just asking I mean I am justified I err, well, who are they?
-"Themselves" thundered a voice of
screaming. So that it burst open at the seams and out of it ran a little mouse donning a knitted gas mask coughing and swearing and
dried fig who, no matter what he did, couldn't utter a single comprehensible word without sulking...
-"Hey, mouse! Come here and give us a kiss," said Mogfelat and
-"why? Becaws am Francie Brady! Who do you think you are?"
-"Francie Brady... I have no time for thinking or kissing or... I am a mouse! What do mice eat? Cheddar!!!"
-"Oh, sorry mate... Want some crackers?"
-"Ah, that a boy in my taste." said the mouse and leaned in close to Mogfelat and
whispered.
-"I got some strawberry jam back in my mousey hole. Want to go back there and have some?"
-"Lezz gow," said Moggie in a drawling voice and on they went but what Moggie didn't know was that Francie Brady had something up his sleeve that didn't
-"Well! Well! Well! That was a real change of scenery," said the pocket calculator and began to hit on a sorry loaf of bread.
-"Get off of me you imbecile, can't you see I'm grieving?"
-"Manners! Please," it rumbled from not to far away...
-"Oh, no... Not that one again... Thank you very much for inviting the monster," said a pack of semi-edible ham.
Simultaneously further up the alley a scavenger of the intrepid sort tripped over some boxes of glass jars put out quite recently and made a ruckus on top of the garbled orders shouted out to the godless cretin guilty of such a transgression as putting out good jars as trash...
-"Manners! Please," it sounded like... "Suit yourself, these jars are the quickest cash tonight... thank you Jesus!" said our intrepid friend and began to transfer the cache to his three-wheeled bicycle.
Minutes ticked away and the silence was like a crazed serial murderer to the calmness of the trash bin were our friend the pocket calculator lay waiting for the inevitable. Attempting to stifle a sudden burst of burps the pocket calculator coughed up the sad remnants of the numbers 9, 7 and 2 and was just about to
all these edges and corners and impossible dancers in vitro fertilization didn't I tell you that I used to be...