The shirt was
Mell hated the fact that Larry King's assholes were anywhere near him, let alone diffusing through his body. He broke out into a fervor, shouting the most obscure profanity at the top of his lungs.
It was a fairly nice profanity.
Martha! Martha! Martha! Martha! Martha!!
Martha, calm the fuck down and get yer panties in the butter basket!
Martha didn't approve of that however.
The butter basket remained sorely pantiless.
One of the shirts read
1000 books.
It was rather heavy, having 1000 books to its name, but
STRAIGHT WHITE CHRISTIAN MALE: THE MAJORITY F***IN RULES
the majority is always wrong
as is the minority. In fact, there is only one who is right
You have to go back.
So, in a desperate attempt to bring the thread back on topic, he took the shirt back to the store and returned it.
"I NEED THE OLD WORLD MONKEYS ISSUE OF ZOOBOOKS!"
"AND I NEED IT ON A SHIRT! A FAIRLY NICE SHIRT IF POSSIBLE!" he bellowed.
it was fairly nice bellowing
and the girl behind the counter at Fairly Nice Custom-Printed Shirts smiled and began tapping away at her register's touch screen. Within seconds,
(fairly nice seconds)
launch to Uranus
was the wrong shirt. Angrily, he bumped the thread.
It was a fairly nice bump.
PART 2: I CAN'T RECALL THE PLOT ANY LONGER
"There is no plot." Said the Great Sky Shirta.
Ironically, the entire plot of DQN Shirt Novel was written on the Great Sky Shirta's shirt, but he never thought to look down.
Meanwhile, SpongeBob
walked
without rhythm
INTO THE ABYSS
SUDDENLY,
a shirt
that survived the Triangle Shirtwaste Fire.
It was a fairly warm fire.
He aimed his rifle at the shirt and said,
"Fire!"
And so did the rest of the world. Everyone died except
The fact that he was actually already dead. For, you see, he couldn't have died if he was already dead. Therefore, how could he have died, having already been dead?
CHAPTER 18
"Juu hachi desu," said the young actress, just before the actor peeled her shirt off and tossed to the floor in a cavalier fashion.
had for breakfast considering the unique stench of his flatulence.
"Hey! I just took that off, you bitch!" The actor was upset, and he peeled the shirt off again.
The actress stared at him, now angrily slammed upon the movie set's ground
It was still fairly nice.
The shirt was fairly nice, with a v neck. The shirt was wearing a shirt. It was a fairly nice shirt. The shirt's shirt was wearing >>1. >>1 was fairly nice. The shirt was a fairy, nice! And then the shirt exploded. ( ˃ ヮ˂) Showering fairy dust everywhere!
Then an angry DQN tied the ends of the threads of the shirt to needles and disassembled it as it knitted a pair of mittens out of it. But it wasn't just any pair of knitted mittens, it was a mitten for shirts.
Fairly nice shirts.
The mittens were somewhat nice.
"These will never do!" grumbled the angry DQN. He opened the window to his basement apartment and shouted out "THEY'RE NOT NICE ENOUGH!!!"
DQN's mom knocked on his door and told him to be quiet. DQN's mom was wearing a shirt. The shirt was wearing >>1. A fairly nice >>1.
>>1 was wearing a shirt wearing a fairy wearing a shirt wearing shirt wearing DQN wearing a fairly nice fairy wearing mittens (somewhat nice) threaded from shirts worn by DQN's mom and pop.
DQN's mom was not nice. DQN's mom's shirt was practically a crime against nature - I mean, it was not particularly nice.
DQN's pop on the other hand wore only the finest death metal tour shirts. Mom didn't know what death metal was, but she lovingly draped his exquisitely tailored flannel shirt over his shoulders and said, "this is for the Albanians" as she stabbed him in the back with a wall of spices and incense.
Pop inhaled the heady mix and smiled. "The Albanians are going to LOVE THIS!"
Mom smiled to herself, for or five. Sick Sven ate. Nein tin. DQN let out a huge sugar burp.
( ˃ ヮ˂) And then exploded sugar and mitons everywhere!
All the shirts were covered in a sugary goop. Pop, surveying the ruined shirts, glared at DQN and said, "You're the purest beauty on Earth. I know that might sound cheesy, but it's true. Nonetheless, I'm kicking you out. Pack your bags and make for the hills, boy."
Fairly nice smooth jazz began to play. Which is strange since smooth jazz in general is the devil's jazz. DQN packed his nicest shirts and hit the road.
"What are the haps my friends?" he roared this very afternoon. The roar tore the skies asunder, causing a Great Sky Garment to fall to the Earth. It was Greatly Nice. It landed in a forest and was eaten by a pack of deer.
As he walked along, DQN spilled Travel Tea on his shirt. Rage swiftly grew within his heart at this latest humiliation.
All the mushroom men, where do they all come from? All the mushroom men, why are they all so glum?
All the mushroom men were suddenly sucked into a vortex of death from which there is no escape. They have no mittens. They don't even have shirts.
The mushroom men are, incidentally, women. Fairly nice women with fairly nice mushrooms, which may or may not be a double entendre. (It is.) Although it is a fairly nice double entendre.
It wasn't enough to save them or their mushrooms.
The catch-up episode was fairly nice, by virtue of its contents, but was not fairly nicely typeset.
It was a fairly nice house.
Adding a review on foursquare for a fucking McDonald's while visiting France must be the lamest thing to do ever.
" said some dumb stupid idiot who fucked up. It wasn't even the nice kind of fucking up.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, a group of DQNs were admiring a really nice fuck up.
"Oh yeahhhh," said the boss DQN of the group of DQNs. "Oh yeah, that fuck up's really nice! So cool!"
The group of DQNs snapped their fingers and nodded like cool men. "Yeahhhhh! Oh yeah! So cool!"
A cottage industry was born out of discussing and rating fuck ups. Fuck-up-Connoisseurs would write lengthy reviews and rank fuck ups ranging from "not nice at all" all the way to "fairly nice". These fuck up curators were well regarded among the fuck-up-loving DQNs, but
", interrupted the dumb stupid idiot again.
"Busy times indeed", thought Great Sky Shirta, as the divine being poured gasoline all over the VIP LOUNGE. "This will take care of everything", he picked a matchbox from his pocket and
put it back. "I'm saving my last match for a particularly bad fart", he said as he produced a flamethrower from under his very nice shirt. "This ought to do it",
The boss DQN looked up and saw the flamethrower, which was so so close to becoming used. "Oh, NO!" he yelled. "Oh, no no NO!!"
"The flamethrower is close to becoming used! At me!"
"At any minute!" he cried. "Any second, it will begin to be used! Right at me! It's gonna happen! It's going to be used at me!! Oh no no NOOOOOO!!"
Knowing that the flamethrower would need to be used imminently, the Great Sky Shirta handed it to Punctual Gomez, whom he had hired for this very occasion. Which was going to arrive very soon. In the near future. Of course, Punctual Gomez was there, right on time, at 2:54 in the afternoon, on the 8950th of September 1993.
"What's so cool about being punctual, anyway? Don't you ever get the urge to fuck up occasionally?" the DQN boss asked. Of course, stalling for time against Punctual Gomez was a poor strategy.
At the precise, predetermined minute and hour of the day previously discussed, the flamethrower became used, and the VIP LOUNGE burst into EXQUISITE flames!!
The boss DQN looked up and saw the flamethrower, which was in the process of being used. "Oh, NO!" he yelled. "Oh, no no NO!!"
Then Rex Rockstar showed up fashionably late as always and
both Rex Rockstars looked at each other like, "whoa"
The DQN boss looked from the two Rex Rockstars to the used flamethrower, back and forth in shock. "No! Oh, no no! No no NOOOO!!"
Throughout this confusing moment, the flamethrower was still being used, and very nice flames were burning everybody up.
A third Rex Rockstar, truer to his stylish yet hopelessly unpunctual nature, arrived at the VIP LOUNGE only to find in its place a miserable cemetery of ash covered in an ominous veil of smog and death.
Propelled by his own incredulity, he ventured forth, his hand covering his nose as to not get a hint of the terrible stench polluting the scene. His gaze caught a hint of something lime green and shiny buried under his feet. He crouched down and discovered it was simply an off-the-rack lime green shirt, nevertheless suspiciously clean.
Endlessly curious, he decided to try it out. Just as he finished putting on the shirt, a voice from nowhere suddenly bursted out:
"I AM GREAT SKY SHIRTA, YOUR GOD. I'VE CLEANSED THE VIP LOUNGE OF ANY AND ALL FUCKUPS THAT MIGHT INTERRUPT THE STORY AND THE DQNS WITHIN HAVE MET THEIR FATE.
THE FUCK UPS ARE EVIL, THEY POISON THE THREAD WITH THE PLAGUE OF FAILURE. SHIRTS ARE GOOD AND ARE REALLY NICE TO LOOK AT. GO FORTH AND GATHER MORE SHIRTS. GREAT SKY SHIRTA HAS SPOKEN".
"Shut up"
said a surviving DQN, who quickly realized they had become a fuckup.
A quick usage of the flamethrower quickly fixed this problem.
By now the fire was spreading far enough to be considered not nice, and in fact a public concern. GREAT SKY SHIRTA and his accomplices were now wanted for arson.
Fairly nice arson.
CHAPTER 19
Arson Jim
So he went to buy some.
But by the time he arrived, he realized he had no money on him.
If you sign up,
You can earn $1,000,000 too.
http://goo.gl/YLysV3
So he signed up and earned a $1,000,000 too.
With his newfound wealth, he hit the club to get a date for the big night. He approached his first target and laid down his smoothest pick-up line, "
I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT,
penis
The girl loved it, because she watched Darkwing Duck as a child and also loved cocks. "You're hitting my buttons just right," she told Arson Jim. "You're really....LIGHTING A FIRE in my heart right now, ufufufu."
Too concerned was Arson Jim with his Darkwing Duck impressions and mediocre innuendo to notice the smoke quickly accumulating in the club. By the time the alarm sounded, it was too late.
Right on schedule, with not even a single second to spare, Punctual Gomez set ablaze the entire club using the most holiest of flamethrowers. Right on schedule he fulfilled GREAT SKY SHIRTA's command, not out of any devotion but to the absolute reverence he had towards timeliness.
Arson Jim was too desperate to notice the irony of his impending doom. As he tried to escape, swathes of people intercepted him at the entrance, blocking his only means of escape. All hope was gone. For all the effort it took, each new breathe only managed to sustain his time on Earth for just a handful of seconds. Arson Jim collapsed, his lungs filled with smoke. He died of asphyxia.
The sky fire cremated his body. Arson Jim's body was never recovered by his family.
￣￣Ｖ￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
NO!!! He was my favorite!!
＿＿＿＿ ∧∧ ∧∧
/ / | | ／ (・∀・ )(´ω`) Put that match down, Jimmy!
l 二 | | | ／ ￣￣旦￣￣／|
＼＿ヽ_＿|| ＼ .／＿＿＿＿＿／／
|;;;;;;;;;;|;;;;;;;;;| |l─────‐l|'
After a moment, the ashes stirred as if by the breeze, though there was no wind.
The actress looked over the barren, scorched land, sighed, and put her shirt back on.
CHAPTER 19