Say my name

. Go on...say it. Say my name and say it carefully. Turly Curd.

Turly Curd! He was so named by his parents, as his mother suffered from a rare nervous disorder, in which she had uncontrollable bouts of spewing out random spoonerisms.

Despite the odd name, his mother's bouts of spontaneous word combinations were tamer in comparison to his younger siblings, Suck Choosy and Fellationa. Our Turly Curd was lucky.

The mother has a form of Turrets, Compound Word Turrets. She had been violated with a dictionary and ever since then, "Duck Plasma!" or "Funeral Berries!" Her family

got a bit sick of it. No, not "Tourettes". Turrets. You see, mum had invented the first military robots that could string 2 words together, though that was pretty much all they did

Was create houses with multiple turrets, confusing buyers of old mansions as to the housing style. Mr. Smith asked his architect, "How many turrets are required for this to be a

crass display of wealth?" The architect crunched some numbers greedily and answered, "No less than ten turrets should do it, Mr. Smith." Thus the ostentatious Smith Mansion was

transformed in a 13th Century Alsatian castle just before a clearly foreseen siege. The larders were stocked for the longe run. Their water supply was guarded by Elvish magick.

AND HE TOOK A GUN AND SHOOT HIM AND KILLED HIM .