Warning: The following FoldingStory contains

Warning: The following FoldingStory contains adult language and graphic violence, as well as brief nudity, continuous nudity, and nude men who own briefs. Children under the age of

ATTENTION: YOUR WARNING IS IN VIOLATION OF NSFW POLICY J.07. PLEASE TURN IN YOUR KEYBOARD AND CHECK-INTO FOLDINGSTORY RETRAINING CENTER IN YOUR AREA. NOTE: I AM NOT YELLING, JUST

having peeled off the CAPSLOCK button to prevent a repeat of the malevolent shitshow that had befallen them before if he was taken by force. What kind of person types in all caps?

"I DO. PUNY MORTAL, DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFY THE ULTIMATE WRITING OF THE GODS?!" the voice, althogh somewhat stunning, sounded insecure.

"Though I do like Almighty-God-Awful writings I am perplexed at your indignant oil of insecurity that does not let your light shine.... God", squeezed out Jerry.

A strange sparkling smoke oozed from Jerry's hand. He was right handed, but when he wrote with his left, it was God's voice coming through. His hand was God's pen. How on earth

did angel's read his instructions? It was worse than his Doctor's prescriptions. He couldn't read a word of what he wrote, so he went to a Graphologist & asked him to analyse God's

diary. He chose four entries about boys, one about prom, an especially detailed recounting of a shower encounter with Gabriel, and 47 separate entries on

failed strategies for completing the Oregon Trail. Each ended with the inevitable: YOU HAVE DIED OF DYSENTERY.