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Joel spat out the remainder of the moutwash

  • Joel spat out the remainder of the moutwash and quietly shuddered. He hated brushing his tongue as it made him want to gag, but then he would have felt sick today anyway
  • thanks to the flesh eating bacteria he'd picked up on his trip across Africa. He set off to work, blissfully unaware of all the blood that would soon cover his office walls.
  • His fiancee had just hung all her Pablo Picasso originals to brighten up his office. The flesh eating bacteria was a bloody time bomb. Closing the door he cranked up head banging
  • tiki metal, which featured three percussionists playing coconuts. The bacteria swayed rhythmically to the slosh of milk. Like the Pied Piper, he led them outside with his stereo
  • which was playing 'My Country 'Tis of Thee'. The plague followed the musicians all the way out of the city, and into an open field. Then the musicians dropped their coconuts and
  • danced around merrily; clapping each other on the backs and smiling their big toothless grins! It looked just like a scene out of the Shire..
  • The halflings' saccharine mud-flinging festival turned the drow's stomach, so she decided to sic her monstrous hordes of eldritch horrors on them for a picnic of their own. Teehee!
  • It was a pretty gruesome dissapointment. The drow's eldritch horrors were no match for the smurf bouncers the brownies had enlisted for their naked mudfight's security detail.
  • What?! You say you're not "into" naked brownie mudfights? Thou dost protesteth too much, methinks. Just let your guard down & let Papa Smurf escort you to the best seat in the hous
  • e!" And that's when it happened. A giant bolt of lightning ripped away from the sky like cereal enters my mouth. In an instant Papa smurf exploded into a rain of goo. The end.

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