Thrashing through the Oslo in a 400 horse

Thrashing through the Oslo in a 400 horse Protégé

That Protégé died two days later. Oslo was destroyed and then rebuitl by Wesley Sneijder alone.

"Pull me out of this nose-dive!" The half-hearted wail was lost on her. Wesley knew she was in mourning over Oslo. He had to come up with a new way to get her attention. He

would walk around shirtless and suck on vanilla Popsicles at ungodly hours in the morning, screeching a high-pitched, ear-raping mating call.

"Just like Yogi Bear used to do, before his, er, accident" thought Booboo as he pushed a boulder to the edge of the cliff above the screeching thing's head. "One more screech," he

yelled, "and you're a goner!" The screeching thing screeched once more. "Alright, you had your chance, NOW DIE!" were Booboo's last words before he realized that the screeching thi

-ng was his rims digging into the asphalt while the remnants of his tires burned in the trail of fuel that the car was spilling. Too late Booboo realized his mistake. The explosion

how did this explode AGAIN!?" He then, exploded.

The audience did not explode. They might have wished to explode. Instead they were locked in a stupor at the realization that they still had to live their lives after seeing this.