It took three well-placed shots in the forehead

It took three well-placed shots in the forehead before the creature fell to the ground. There it writhed, twisting and turning, before finally going dormant.
I had a dark fetish. I took off my clothes and lay with the corpse all night. The holes in the head may have been unsightly to others but to me they were each just another orifice
for rabi corpses tapeworm to crochet through. I trained the tapeworm to macrame my payess. I felt this was a good faith effort to grow them long despite my Aplasia. My trepaned sku
ll cap was the most original among all of my cousins. West Virginia coal mines are dark and damp and have more tapeworms than hives on my mama's legs. The crafty tapeworm took a
shining to my gut and I was soon eating 12 ounce steaks for breakfast and four whole fried chickens for lunch. Russell could barely keep up with my appetite, though he tried, gain
gaining ground by eating the leftovers, although he could never stomach more than four servings. Russel ate mostly candy as well, which left his tongue stained neon purple.
His mum was so alarmed that she called Dr. Malouf Aziz and asked him what he recommended. The MRI if Russell's tongue was shocking. It almost was extracted.
From the root. The root of this tongue, though, baffled Dr. Maloug Aziz as he looked at the MRI image. It seemed the root of this widow's son was the planet's core. How was he walk
-ing around like that? Why didn't the weight of the world crush the widow's son? Dr. Maloug Aziz stared at the MRI and finally said, "Hm, peculiar. No sign of intelligent life."
Suddenly there was a commotion as the widow's son pushed his way up to the Doctor. "Sir? What's wrong?" "I need your clothes, your boots, and your MRI Machine."

Started: 2014-02-04 21:21:22
Finished: 2017-11-27 04:51:41

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