Discussion in 'The Games Room' started by Benchista, Jan 3, 2014.
. . . .and yet, before the first bites took off his toes, he managed to croak, "Eh?"
and that's when our story really begins
but comes to an abrupt (and rather painful) ending when the beasts began chewing on his vitals. AAaaaaaargh!
"No, no, no" said the Keeper of the Beasts, "You can't be eating vitals on a Wednesday. Vitals are a Thursday night treat. Now we'll have to start again."
now where was I
Loss of his vitals had somewhat disoriented him, but his google maps app soon had him heading to nirvana.
or was it in search of banana
but Nirvana would not be reached until Manana and by that time it was Thursday so vitals were back on the menu for the beasts. . . .
But lo, there were no more victims with vitals left. The beasts were without vitals or victuals. And would surely starve. To death. No more to terrorize the neighbourhood.
Having starved, the beasts littered the pit, but from their filthy matted hair emerged an army of parasitical fleas led by the Chieftain of the Fleas, 'Cromwell the Scratchy' who led his 'New Model Flea Army' up and over the walls of the pit, out into the world there to spread disease and pestilence across all nations until all human and animal forms became extinct, and having eaten every earthly plant the fleas themselves all perished from hunger and there was no life left. The End!
The novelist put down his pen and sighed. He really needed a more positive ending; his editor would never go for this. Time to think again.
However, luck was on his side. The Editor had been arrested that very morning in connection with the newspaper's illegal activities in respect of phone-tapping, and thus he was free to let his imagination run riot and so concocted another five thousand word article of which not one sentence had a scintilla of truth contained anywhere within it. It was another of his sensational 'scoops', and guaranteed sell-out sales the next morning. "Oh," he thought, Rupert will be so pleased."
But Rupert wasn't pleased. Rupert had had a change of heart and had decided that from now on only truthful, fair and unbiased actual news would appear in his newspapers and televisual channels. Hell froze over.
and his vitals were the first bits of him to freeze solid. Eeeurgh!
Alas the story came to its final conclusion.
but we were all left none the wiser.
and even less sagacious.
Which left Rupert in a quandary because having had such a large part in the general dumbing down of the world's population he now realised there was nobody left capable of reading. He would have to start a school.
Nonetheless his initial imperative was how to defrost his vitals. It would not be an easy task for the temperature had slipped down to 50 degrees below and, worse still, The Sun was but a far distant memory.
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