The great slumbering god rolled over and

The great slumbering god rolled over and created a minor earthquake that destroyed half of San Francisco. Unfortunately the other half was overrun by slimy creeping tentacle

which wrapped around the Ferry Building clock. Its many eyes looked down on the screaming populance. Cthulhu muttered "Damn, overslept again. Should have been up eons ago."

Just then the daytime sky darkened and B'chuggeroth materialized over the Ferry terminal. "What are YOU doing here?", he bellowed. "This is my Eon!". Cthulhu shrugged a tentacle

and in stormed Secret Agent Michael Scarn. "You're late again," said Cthulu. "I don't know why we even bother throwing foldingstory meme parties." B'chuggeroth nodded in agreement.

"Party's over." Cooed a familiar voice. It was Detective Jimmy Manatee, badge raised and gun loaded. Scarn, Cthulu, and B'Chuggeroth were in shock. They were the plot twisters, not

plot twizzlers, which weren't as good. They made the plots all waxy and identical, and although you could count on a uniform quality, the plots basically sucked, so Jimmy

Dean sausages sponsored the films instead. They hired Peter Jackson because that fatass sleeps through every movie he makes, so they got away without him ruining shit like he did

then, when Gandalf struck his staff on the ground and instead said, "I think I'll pass on this fudge commercial." "WHAT?!" Peter Jackson cried. "Why the hell not?!" Gandalf

the Grey said, "I don't need the eleventy thousand silver pennies they offer." From that position on fudge, he would not budge.