"I triple foo dog dare you!" Tony whispered

"I triple foo dog dare you!" Tony whispered giving me a fierce look. He had removed the indian fetish from his pocket and dangled the foo dog before me sinisterly. I knew the curse

of the foo dog was a troublesome one, of which I would want no part of. Such a curse could leave a man (or woman) brainless, or even worse, Coccyx-less! So I took it upon myself to

steal Einstein's brain in case I'd loose mine. Then i started to think on a way to stop the curse. Unfortunatley, i couldn't do it because

I had loosened my brain too much and it had sunk all the way down in my cranium causing all the dural fluid to sit atop it sloshing around with each movement causing me to teeter &

fart

I eyed Somerset warily out of the corner of my eye, scrunching up my nose. "You had to derail the FoldingStory with that fart, didn't you?" Somerset shrugged innocently, proceeding

To clean up the mess. Somerset waited three years to fold the next line. His dog, Rex, was a Great Dane/Black Lab mix. Rex used a Doggie Mac and produced some incredibly clever

prose. "Move over Rover, c'mon, share your clover. Hey, Rex, let's go get Tex-Mex." At this point Rex actually groaned and bit him. He bit the Mac too

chicken friend to him. The chicken, Alastor, started crying because he'd just cleaned the floor. Sure, some cheese sauce? Easy to clean. But the blood? That was gonna suck balls.