The spirits of the damned know science. It is the blasphemy that burned their lives and their rest. As he watched the souls desperately snatch up the foglets on his steel worktable, Vince knew the world was doomed.
Yo, my name is Derek and I **** goldfish with thousand-dollar toothpicks.
How he managed to get my intestines around my neck to hang me like an ornament from my Christmas tree, I do not know. What I do know is that my children are in grave danger and I can't get down.
Fido, I thought you loved me, boy. Why are you chewing on my breast?
The shimmer of his aura clashes so gently with the shine of my chainsaw. I could kill this beautiful man forever.
I'll add more sad submissions later.
Edited by Sheep Murderer, 29 November 2009 - 09:17 PM.