Previously: http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1335873482/
Prologue: Mr Gray and his Exploding
eleventh place where it lingered for a few weeks, like a fart whose odour still haunts a location long after its creator has absconded.
Meanwhile, in Lesotho,
small angry men with hairy faces and burning feet
were attending a concert. Beady Eyes and the Derail Band was to perform there, playing their new hit song, "Ha Ha Butt and the Big Fats are Losers Everyone Quick Point At Them and Laugh", which had just hit #3 on the charts, just under
"Goobaaaa" and "Spoade"
. The small angry men of Lesotho were not impressed with this irritating small eyed rabbit or his posse. They cared little for the nuances of anus related musical politics, and simply wanted
to get fucked uuuuup.
Unfortunately white oak trees
some grew, some withered. Few turned an eye to them, but those that did were disappointed and bored.
When the small angry men were distracted, the oak trees convened and plotted to remove the pop musicians from Lesotho once and for all. The first stage of their plan was to gather
bearded geeks and
geeky beards
. They would then incite rebellion in said beards, causing them to rebel against their tyrannical geeky overlords. The geeks, strangled to death by their own beards, would then serve as
rafts for floating passengers and cargo across the rivers of blood and back
. Little did the oak trees know,
Although, as oak trees possess neither muscles nor the appropriate biological adaptations to undergo a fever response, let alone the ability to dance, all this really meant was that
they were about to be set on fire by some dancing bodybuilders.
That however backfired (heh heh) as the fire jumped onto the bodies (heh heh) of the bodybuilders due to the unnatural amounts of oil slathered on their bodies.
"You'll never stop our fiery burning hearts!" they cried. Then they burned to death.
And up from the ashes arose
Steve Albini
The sloth set on fire.
That is, he set the record "On Fire: A Scientific, Historical, and Philosophic Study, Presented in Audio Format" on a nearby turntable, put the needle on the record, and let it play.
The record began:
"Ladies and Gentlemen! I stand
This is an audio recording of "On Fire: A Scientific, Historical, and Philosophic Study, Presented in in Audio Format" based on the original hardcover edition "On Fire: A Scientific, Historical, and Philosophic Study, the original textbook for Universities and Elementary Schools".
And then the record player caught fire. The sloth made an exasperated sighing noise and
whined, "I remember this book by heart. Let me continue."
But then Jaspy whined harder causing the sloth to commit suicide out of envy. Jipzo started whining again. He was whining hardcore.
The sloth's ghost was just hanging around.
Suddenly, it became aware of
the inner workings of the universe and decided to pass its knowledge to
Norman was on fire.
a notorious pyromaniac. In fact, it was probably him who had been setting everything/one else on fire.
Norman hopped and flapped his way back into the nearby river of blood to put himself out, but was hit by a passing bearded geek corpse raft and killed instantly. Thus, the giant sloth's ghost's profound knowledge
leaked out of Norman and fused with the blood in the blood river. It flowed for hundreds of miles until it gathered in a crater left by a demonic titanite meteorite ten thousand years ago. All the blood formed a blood lake, infused with the knowledge of the sloth's ghost, as it was when it was passed to Norman. It is said that, by drinking this blood, one can gain near-omniscience as well as a mastery of mystic fire powers, but the exact location of the blood lake is unknown. It is rumored to be somewhere in Bolivia, but nobody goes near the area where some say it is, on account of the shrodgeish living nearby.
TL note: shrodgeish means bison.
Chapter 2.71828: The Bombastic Bison of the Bolivian Blood Basin
It was always raining in
being on fire.
What with luck being a non-physical object, McNally could not just extinguish it with the abundant precipitation around him either. Indeed, the best he could do was curse at it and hope for the best.
Alas, McNally's luck ran out and he
had to call the service and ask for replacement. However, they didn't want to give their luck out and
, instead, just sent him
, somewhat predictably at this point, fire.
Randy opened the package of fire and, upon seeing its inflammatory contents, became
inflamed.
Suddenly, the ghost of Vladimir Ilyich Lenin
Smxxpy had arrived.
He was just in time for
showing up fashionably late to the 600 GET party,
which was taking place at the fire temple of
DQN Systems, Inc.'s corporate retreat island, where a group of executives had embraced pseudo-voodoo as their religion and abandoned civilized society in favor of nature worship and curse-laying, living in grass huts and wearing leaves. Their main form of currency was guano, formed into 3-inch diameter 1-cm thick patties. They also chose to speak in a pidgin language of English, Japanese, Esperanto, and the sound of trying to speak French while doing some auto-erotic asphyxiation.
Just then, the party was crashed by none other than
Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson.
There were no survivors.
Meanwhile,
Vince Wilson and Owen Vaugh were going to smash their wieners together.
There were no survivors.
Meanwhile,
in Azerbaijan, a little girl was drinking
her own
There were no survivors.
Meanwhile,
in Australia, a bunch of clueless tourists was standing the wrong side up. Everyone stared at their
dangling, hairy, scrotums
potage
. It looked delicious and
nutritious, rich in protein while low in saturated fatty acids. Four out of five doctors in the audience agreed that it should be part of a healthy breakfast, while the fifth
thought that it should be part of a healthy brunch. SMILE!
But there one problem remained: what
is a what is a what what what?
As it so happens, what
what, in the butt.
I said what what, in the butt.
No, seriously, what what, in the butt?
The writer leaned back in his chair completely distraught by a silhouette of a stranger holding a giant dildo in his window. He wrote everything down and ended this paragraph with
HELP ME! CALL THE POLICLE PLEASE! I AM ABOUT TO GET SEXUALLY ASSAULTED IN THE SAFETY OF MY OWN COSY LITTLE HOUSE!
Sympathetic of the author's plight, the reader shouted "Policle! You have to save the author; his anal sanctity is at stake!"
The Policle
were busy eating policicles, so they handed the task over to
Ranger Rick.
But Ranger Rick was too busy rickrolling at long range, so he handed the task over to
the author himself. Thus, the author got up, went outside and punched the giant dildo wielding stranger in the face.
"Thank you so much, author! How can I ever repay you?" Asked the author.
"All in a day's work, author." Replied the author.
Meanwhile, at the galactic core...
Richie is a crack addict who grew up with Gino and Bobby
McDoggerson, the twin sons of a certain Mister
Gray, who was last seen being swallowed up by a black hole. His sons regarded this turn of events as
as a diversion made by
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so Richie did some crack
and the addictions caused the butts to multiply exponentially. Once there were 512 butts
but the butt cracks
were full of holes, most of which were soon submerged at the bottom of the sea.
And then, with a gut-busting subsonic rumble, they farted.
Just kidding they didn't.
Spaceman Spiff
"Zounds!"
exclaimed the author, "My novel is full of butts!"
Little did he know,
there weren't even that many butts.
But Fidel Castro's cigar was going to add one more.
"Aaaaaargh!" Exclaimed the author. But screaming couldn't save him now. The enraged fifty foot tall radioactive landlord Squeeks picked him up by the feet and and swallowed him whole, before laughing maniacally. "Muhahahahaha!" he laughed.
But even the enraged fifty foot tall radioactive landlord Squeeks wasn't safe from